There was also the added bonus of having Cornelius there. The Englishman had become like a brother to him after pulling him out of the ocean when he fell from the old world. They had been on many adventures together over the years, most of them ending with Max getting into some kind of trouble and the two of them fleeing in the middle of the night to escape somebody he had ticked off. It wasn’t Cornelius’s fault. He was a well-behaved proper Englishman who doted on the stars and wrote poetry. The trouble always started with Max.
Max had been raised a pirate, having joined his first seafaring crew at the age of thirteen. All he knew was thieving, drinking and women. Coming down here didn’t change anything either, especially the women. He was always looking for a pretty face to impress and he couldn’t do that without looking good and bearing gifts. So, he stole whatever he could as long as it looked good and fit properly. He always had a bag full of shirts and pants for himself; jewelry and lace for the ladies. It was his other habit, drinking, that usually ended every rendez vous. For some reason, though, Cornelius always stayed with him. It was like the Englishmen felt it was his duty to look out for the young scallywag and was continuously saving him from jealous boyfriends or possessive women. But one particular escapade proved to be too much for Cornelius and the two went their separate ways.
It happened about eight or nine summers ago. The two had come across a little group of about eleven men and women. Of course, Max found one particular girl to be to his liking but she had a boyfriend. He was a big man and Max would never stand a chance against him. So, after he got what he wanted from the girl, her undying love and devotion, he and Cornelius fled before big bad boyfriend could get his hands on the young Scott. They were forced, once again, to abandon the hope of fitting in with a stable group. Before they left, though, they learned about a local gang who were terrorizing the countryside. They called themselves the ‘Punks’ and the girl who had fallen for Max warned him and Cornelius to be on the lookout for them.
These ‘Punks’ were making a name for themselves and it seemed there were more than a few people who didn’t want to run into them. Rumour had it that they attacked small groups of two or three, stole their food and water and anything else they wanted. They had attitude too. If anyone tried to fight back, the ‘Punks’ were not afraid to use violence. They beat two men nearly to death and they shot another in the foot. Now that they had to leave so suddenly, Cornelius did not like the idea of he and Max being alone with no protection from what a bigger group could give them.
“I’ve told you over and over,” said Cornelius who was still steaming at Max for having their lives threatened once again by a jealous lover. They were sitting around a fire that they had built. “Leave the ladies who have boyfriends alone. It never comes to any good.”
“I can’t help it,” Max laughed at his friend. “Did you see the fire in her eyes? It almost matched the colour of her hair.”
“Yes, I’ll admit, she was a handsome woman,” said Cornelius, “but she was already spoken for and to a man who could kill the both of us with one swipe.”
“Oh, Cornelius, how you exaggerate,” Max said as he pushed the embers of their fire with a stick. “You know I’m a fool for a pretty lady.”
“Yes, well, you’ve gone and done it now, haven’t you?”
“What do you mean?” Max looked at his friend, waiting for an explanation for his panic. They had been chased out of groups before; why would he be so afraid now?
“You heard what they said about the ‘Punks’?”
“The gang who’s been robbing people?” Max laughed. “Why would you be afraid of a bunch of fools?”
“You heard what they said?” Cornelius was angry that Max wasn’t taking it more seriously. “These guys are bad. They beat a man and his son half to death and shot another!”
“You really believe that?” Max stirred the fire again. “I bet they weren’t beat as bad as everyone’s saying and, think about it, shot in the foot? How bad do you have to be with a gun to shoot someone in the foot. I’ve robbed a lot of people and, believe me, if I had to shoot, it was never at the foot.”
“Yes, I know about your past, Max,” Cornelius said, “but, still, we should be a little more cautious while out here. On our own. With no group.”
“I get it,” Max said. “You’re pissed at me, again. Tell me, Cornelius, what does a lady have to do to spark your interest?”
“I am very particular when looking for a prospective mate,” he said, trying not to look too embarrassed by the question.
“Prospective mate?” Max laughed. “Come on, lad, is that how you see women? No wonder you haven’t caught one yet or are you more interested in the stronger sex?”
“What?” he seemed shocked by Max’s suggestion. “I’ll have you know that I have a very keen interest in women. In fact, I’ve had more than one triste in my day!”
“Okay, okay,” Max laughed, “I didn’t mean to offend. I just wanted you to know that, if you were interested in a stronger more masculine partner, that would be okay. Not with me, mind you, I still love the ladies but I did know some pirates that weren’t as manly as they wanted everyone to think and they were pretty good guys. Saved my life once, one did. Nice guy, Reginald was.”
“Reginald?” Cornelius raised his eyebrow.
“What? It’s a name.” The two of them continued talking about women and life and the differences between this world and the world they came from and eventually the night came and they fell asleep and there was no attack from the ‘Punks’. At least not that night.
The next day the two hiked all morning and into the afternoon. They had been lucky, too, snaring two rabbits and stumbling on a row of untouched blueberry bushes. They picked blueberries for an hour, filling a couple of sacks, before moving on. Finally, after filling their canteens with water and skinning the rabbits, they decided to make camp. They gathered firewood and fashioned a spit for the rabbits and started to cook one. All was going good today. They shared stories and talked about where they were going to go next. Cornelius never mentioned how they had to flee and Max never bugged him about finding a girl.
“Who’s that?” asked Max. He had spotted a small group heading towards them but they had the sun at their backs and Max could only make out their silhouettes.
“I don’t know,” said Cornelius as he held his hand over his eyes to shade them from the bright sun. “Looks like they’re headed this way.” The two stood and waited for the group to approach. When they finally came into focus, Max could see that the group was made up of five boys ranging in age from thirteen to seventeen. They were dressed rather roughly in jeans and leather and they carried an air of arrogance with every step they took. They were dirty and greasy and Max knew immediately that these must be the ‘Punks’. He was right, they didn’t look intimidating despite how much they tried. He looked at his friend and saw that Cornelius did not share his opinion. The Englishman looked wide-eyed and more than just a little alarmed.
“It’s them!” he whispered.
“I know,” said Max. “I’ll take care of it.”
“No,” Cornelius pulled Max’s hand away from the knife he was reaching for. “Perhaps if we gave them food and water, they won’t find the need to steal. Look at them, they’re just boys, not much younger than you.”
“Your heart is too kind my friend,” said Max as he left the knife in his belt and, instead, reached out a hand towards the group. “Hello, friends. How goes the journey?”
“Awe, a European,” said the boy who looked like the oldest and, from the way he stepped to the front, the leader. “Haven’t met too many Europeans. Where you from?”
“Scotland,” answered Max, not liking the way the boy was eyeing him, “and my friend here is from England.”
“Two Europeans!” said the boy. “Even better.”
“Are you boys hungry?” Cornelius spoke. He could sense that there was tension between Max and the boy already. “We have food and we don’t min
d sharing.”
“I don’t know,” the boy turned to the rest of his group. “What do you say boys? Are we hungry?” They all nodded, obviously not doing anything without the approval of their leader. The boy turned back to Cornelius. “I guess we are. Thank you.”
That seemed to have broken the tension. The group gathered around the camp, sitting and relaxing. Cornelius cooked both rabbits and brought out the bag of blueberries they had picked earlier. They all ate and talked and shared stories of their arrival to this world. It turned out that the boys were all young. The leader, Keith, was seventeen, Steve was sixteen, Troy was also sixteen, Chad was seventeen and the youngest, Tommy, was only thirteen. They had all fallen down here at different times over the last thirty years. Of all the boys, Tommy looked the weakest. He was quiet and shy, only talking when he absolutely had to. Max didn’t trust any of them. He saw them for the punks that they really were; trouble seeping from their veins. But Tommy was different. He liked Tommy, even felt sorry for him to be mixed up with these losers.
“Well,” said Keith. “It’s been real nice sitting and chatting with you guys. The food was good but I think it’s time we said goodbye.”
“Are you sure?” asked Cornelius even though he couldn’t be happier that they were leaving.
“Yeah, we’ve taken too much of your time and food,” Keith reached out a hand to help Tommy up. The boy shyly took the hand and got to his feet. “It was nice meetin’ the two of you. Maybe we’ll cross paths again sometime. We should go before the sun goes down; find ourselves a place to hunker down for the night or keep walkin’. Sometimes you find cool things in the dark.”
“Sometimes,” Max said as he got to his feet. He reached out to shake his hand. Keith obliged but squeezed just a little harder than was necessary, never taking his eyes off of Max’s. Max stared back, not showing any sign of weakness, until Keith felt the intimidation and looked away. Max’s face broke into a wide grin. He was not intimidated easily.
“Okay, boys,” Keith addressed his group. “Let’s go. Thank the Europeans for their hospitality and let’s header.” They did as they were told and thanked Max and Cornelius, each avoiding Max’s eyes as they shook his hand. The pirate knew how to be formidable. When Tommy whispered out a barely audible thank you, his eyes cast on the ground, Max softened and put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. Tommy looked up for a second and saw only kindness in the eyes of Max.
“You guys be careful,” he spoke more to the young boy than anyone else. “It can get ugly down here.”
“Oh, we’re always careful,” smiled Keith. “Aren’t we Tommy?”
“Yeah,” Tommy looked down at the ground again and put his hands in his pocket. Then they left; just as quickly as they had appeared, they disappeared leaving Max and Cornelius alone once again.
“They weren’t so bad,” smiled Cornelius. He was happy they had fed them and looked after them. That had to mean something.
“Is that your official opinion?” asked Max.
“Well, now that we fed them and treated them like decent human beings,” he explained. “Maybe, just maybe, they won’t pick us to steal from now. Don’t you think?”
“I think you’re a smart, kind man,” said Max. “And I hope you’re right.” But inside, he knew this was wrong. They would be back; he could guarantee it.
Hours later, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Cornelius unrolled his sleeping bag and laid it out a few feet from the fire. When he noticed Max wasn’t doing the same, he questioned him, “Why aren’t you getting out your bed?”
“I’m not sleeping,” he stated.
“Not sleeping?” asked Cornelius. “Why not?”
“Because, mate,” he looked at his friend. “I don’t trust those boys.”
“Really?” Cornelius didn’t agree with his friend. They had a good time with the boys earlier. They gave them food and water and he felt they had come to some kind of silent understanding. If they were given the things they wanted, they wouldn’t want to come and rob them. “I think we’re fine. They probably moved on to something else, someone else.”
“You’re wrong,” said Max, disappointed that Cornelius wasn’t more concerned. After all, wasn’t it him who was so paranoid of the ‘Punks’ before. “They’ll definitely be back.”
“Aww, you worry too much,” Cornelius said as he lay on top of his sleeping bag and stared at the stars. “Go to sleep. You’ll be tired tomorrow and we need to hunt for more food.”
“Hmph,” was all Max would give him. He knew that by we, Cornelius meant that Max would need to hunt for more food. It didn’t matter, though, he intended to wait all night if he had to. “I promise; they will be back.” He remembered the look in Keith’s eyes. It was the look of greed and evil and he knew exactly what the seventeen-year-old would do.
“Suit yourself, but I’m going to sleep and sleep soundly,” he rolled over and within minutes a soft snoring sound could be heard. Max put another log on the fire and pulled out the sword he had taken from a dead civil war soldier he had killed when the man challenged him to a duel for a girl he didn’t even remember the name of.
Two and a half hours later, Max heard a shuffle. It was the sound of boots sliding across the dirt. He sat upright and listened again. More shuffling. They were here! He looked over at two large boulders that blocked the north. There was just enough room between them for him to squeeze into. He got up and snuck over to them, not making a sound. The shuffling was getting louder meaning the boys were getting closer.
“Over there,” it was Keith. “I saw the English one put the leftovers in that bag. It must have the rest of their food as well.”
“What about that one?” asked one of the others. Max couldn’t tell who.
“No, that’s nothing,” said Keith. “I think it has fishing gear or something.” Max raised an eyebrow. Fishing must be beneath them. “That one over there, it has clothes. Take that one.” Max was raging at how these boys thought they could help themselves to whatever they wanted. And they were doing it so quietly, almost too afraid to wake them. It was as he thought, these ‘Punks’ were foolish little boys.
“Keith?” asked one of the boys.
“What?” the leader sounded angered that one of them was asking a question.
“Where’s the other guy?” the boy asked. “There’s only one here.” Max would have to act fast before they realized that he was hiding somewhere waiting for them.
“What the...?” Keith couldn’t get out the rest of the sentence before Max popped out from between the boulders.
“Looking for someone?” He gripped his sword ready for any action.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” said Keith as he reached for his belt.
“No?” Max lifted the sword, forcing Keith to raise his hands in the air. Then Keith shifted his focus behind the Scott. It was so quick, Max barely caught the movement. He quickly spun around, sword up and caught two of the boys across their stomachs. Blood flowed out of their wounds and they went to their knees. They wouldn’t recover from such gaping cuts. The soldier’s sword was sharp. He stepped a few paces to the right, never breaking contact with Keith.
“What the hell, man?” said Keith. “Those were good guys, asshole!”
“They couldn’t have been that good if they were willing to follow a boy like you,” Max smiled. Keith didn’t like being called a boy.
“Steve, don’t let this jerk get away with killing our friends,” Keith still held his hands up. Max could see Steve start to raise his hand. He had a gun that he must have retrieved when Max spun around.
“I wouldn’t,” Max warned.
“You just killed two of my friends,” cried Steve. “Keith’s right, I’m not going to let you get away with it.” Before he could pull the trigger, Max reached his hand behind his back and pulled out his own gun from his belt. He pulled the trigger without hesitation and Steve fell to the ground. The sound woke up Cornelius.
“Max?” he said through a sl
eepy haze. “What are you doing?”
“I told you they’d be back.”
“You die now!” Keith was filled with blind rage.
“No, I don’t.” He aimed his gun at the ‘Punks’ leader and shot him between the eyes. A sound came from behind and he turned on his heal. He didn’t even realize he had raised his sword but he must have because Tommy stood before him holding his throat, trying to stop the blood that shot from his cut jugular. He had no idea the boy was even there. Why would Keith let someone so young and timid join in his plundering? He watched helplessly as the boy reached out for help, his eyes wide with terror. Tommy fell to his knees, then his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he fell face first onto the ground.
“Oh my god, Max,” Cornelius was standing now, looking at the carnage that surrounded them. “What have you done?”
“I told you they’d be back,” Max said with no emotion. He stared at the body of the young Tommy. What had he done? “I had to stop them.”
“But kill them?” Cornelius was shocked at how violent it all was. “Did you have to kill them? My god, Max, they were just boys!”
“They wanted our stuff,” he said. “They wanted to take everything.”
“I can’t,” Cornelius started to roll up his sleeping bag. “I can’t do this anymore, Max.”
“Do what?” Max turned to his friend and watched him pack his things.
“I can’t stay with you,” Cornelius was shoving things into his bags now. “I think it’s time we part our ways old friend. You go your way and I’ll go mine. You can have all the women you want and run from as many angry boyfriends as you like. But I’m done. I just can’t...”
“That’s it? You’re just going to walk away in the middle of the night?”
“Yes” he zipped his bag and strapped it onto his back.
“You can’t be serious,” Max reached out to his friend and grabbed his shoulder. “You can’t just leave in the middle of the night. I told you they’d be back. I didn’t want to kill them but I had to! Don’t you see? They were going to take everything.”
Blood Page 9
