by M. D. Massey
I looked up at Cyrus’ corpse, swaying in the wind. “Well kid, you don’t do half-measures, do you?”
He looked confused. “Huh? I thought you said take care of Cyrus. So, we took care of it, just like you said.”
I silently reminded myself to be crystal clear in the future when dealing with people who thought I was going to kill them. But, like Cyrus had said, I wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.
“That you did, Deke–that you did.”
Clinton’s quiet voice filled the silence. “He beat me and my mom. And he used to bend me over and bugger me, too. Said it was my punishment. I’m glad he’s dead. Amanda never hurt no one, and she had every right to be here, just like anyone else. Weren’t right to chase her off.”
I stared him in the eye. “But you were afraid.”
He nodded, and a tear streaked down his face. “I was. But I ain’t no more.”
Deke patted his brother-in-law on the back and beamed with pride. “Cyrus tried to pull a pistol on me when I told him he weren’t in charge no more, and Clinton beat him across the back of the head with a two-by-four. Saved my life.”
Clinton shrugged. “I did it for all of us. It was miserable, living under his thumb. Maybe now we can live a little happier. If that were possible.”
I pursed my lips and nodded. “Stranger things have happened, fellas. Stranger things have happened. Now, let me tell you what’s going to happen from here on out–”
When I got back to the farmhouse, it was well past midnight. Amanda and Belle were sitting out on the front porch of the house, and Amanda was sipping from a glass of water while Belle brushed her hair. She stood up as I approached, nervous, yet also seemingly eager to greet me. Belle stayed seated, but even in the near dark, I could feel her eyes following me.
Amanda spoke up. “I’m usually asleep by now, but I wanted to know what happened.”
I chuckled. “Well, Cyrus is – gone.”
“Did you kill him?”
I shook my head. “Nope. Deke and Clinton did, although I think Clinton did most of the work.”
She tugged at the edge of her dress and looked at her feet. “Clinton was always friendly to me.”
“Well, you don’t have to worry about Cyrus anymore. Also, I worked out a deal for you with Deke and Clinton. They’re to leave food for you every three days at the cave near the settlement. I warned them that if they didn’t, Belle would likely come looking for them, and I suggested that she might not be happy about it.”
Amanda giggled. “I that scared the poop out of them, didn’t it?”
“Mostly just Deke.” I looked at Belle, then at Amanda. “Are you going to be okay?”
She nodded and smiled. “I’ll be alright, Mr. Sully. Don’t you worry none.”
“I suppose I can’t help it if I worry because this whole thing is new to me, but I’ll do my best. Now, I can’t promise it’ll be soon, but I’ll come back through to check on you before winter. Is that okay?”
Both Belle and Amanda answered in tandem. “Yessss.”
When I got back to the cabin several days later, I spent a considerable amount of time thinking about the way things turned out. I’d never had a situation in which I chose not to kill one of Them, and for the life of me, I couldn’t decide whether or not I’d done the right thing. On the one hand, my instincts told me that I needed to kill Belle and take Amanda someplace where she’d be safe and cared for, and where she could be raised by people who loved her. On the other hand, I couldn’t rightly say that she wasn’t getting that from Belle.
It was a strange and sad episode that I never shared with anyone, not my girl Kara, not the other hunters I knew, and not with any of the regulars at Kara’s bar. Despite my reservations, I made it back to check in on the settlement and Amanda several times over the course of the next few years. Over time, I witnessed her growing from a child into a bright young lady.
Each time I visited, I brought her clothes and books, and things that a girl might enjoy. And with every visit, I noticed a growing sadness in her. It was easy to see she was lonely, but Belle probably would have never understood, even if I explained it to her.
The last time I saw Amanda, she was no longer living at the old farmhouse, but instead had moved back to the town. She was living with Clinton, in one of the ramshackle houses there in the settlement. Shocked, but not surprised, I greeted them both and exchanged niceties while observing the way they treated with one another. I noted that Clinton took considerable care with her, and exhibited a tenderness that revealed how much he loved her. I also noticed that he had a long, wicked scar across his cheek that wasn’t there the last time I’d been through.
Before long, Clinton excused himself, saying that he had chores to do that wouldn’t wait. After he had left, Amanda and I sat on the tiny porch in front of their shack, talking about silly everyday things and avoiding the elephant that was sitting right there between us. Of course, I wasn’t about to ask her about Belle, and just figured she’d tell me when she was good and ready.
Finally, she brought it up. “Scratch, I just couldn’t do it anymore, you know? I’d go out during the day, wandering closer and closer to town just hoping to see some actual people, and then I saw Clinton one day, and I knew I couldn’t live with Belle forever.” She fussed and fidgeted with a loose thread on her dress as she spoke, looking out past the oak tree at the center of the settlement.
“How’d Belle take it?
Amanda looked down at her hands, sadness and longing etched on her face. “She didn’t understand at first. I was spending my days with Clinton, and nights back at the farmhouse–but Belle knew something was going on. When I told her that I was leaving, she just wouldn’t accept it. ‘Manda, stay, Manda, stay.’ She kept repeating it over and over again. Broke my heart.”
“Then what happened?”
“Then she followed me one day when I went to visit Clinton. How she managed it in broad daylight, I don’t know. It had to have been excruciating for her. Anyway, she must’ve been there watching us for a long time. We used to meet at the cave where Belle took me that first night.”
A tear streaked down her face, and I brushed it away with the back of my hand. “She attacked Clinton, didn’t she?”
Amanda nodded. “Tried to kill him. Would’ve, if I hadn’t stepped in.”
“Where’s Belle now, Amanda?”
She gulped, and whispered softly. “I buried her in that cave, Scratch. Right where she belongs.”
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About The Author
M.D. Massey
M.D. Massey has been a soldier, an emergency room technician, a fitness trainer, a truck driver, a martial arts instructor, a cook, a consultant, a web designer, and a security professional. He also spent six weeks in law school before deciding that, if he was going to lie for a living, he’d do it honestly as a fiction writer. M.D. lives in Austin, Texas with his family and a huge American Bulldog who keeps him company while he writes the sort of books he likes to read.
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