Traveling Merchant (Book 2): Pestilence

by Seymour, William J.

  The middle of the pile begins to pull away. A dark figure steps forward and for a moment Merchant steps between her and the newcomer, but quickly, he steps back.

  Brother George.

  Eyes swollen barely above being closed. Fresh blood drips from his lips and his walk carries a heavy limp. He is no longer the imposing man he was.

  Defeated.

  Worn.

  Aged.

  He is almost as dead as those laying on the ground. With a slow turn he regards his congregation with a mournful look and then comes back.

  “Mr. Barnett sent his men to collect their charge. He was no better than he had been when they left.” A sob shakes the man’s body, and he almost falls with the buckling of his knee. A man goes to step forward and help him, but he is waved off with the back of a hand. “Truthfully, I believe they would have done this even if the man had been cured of the disease.”

  Red looks around at the surrounding eyes all bleeding red with pain and misery.

  “What did they do? Why didn’t you fight back?” she asks.

  Brother George snorts and winces as a few bubbles of blood burst from the corner of his lips.

  “Fight them with what? They have guns and we have prayer. We are not like you, Red, or Mr. Merchant here. Our best defense is our faith in the lord above. When these men were told we could not cure their friend, they dragged his sorry soul in front of us all. The infection was taking over his mind, and they gave us one more chance to cure him. We… I could not do it. They slit his throat right where you stand and then said their orders were to take the cost of this man’s life in flesh if we did not pay up. I offered myself in sacrifice,” a true smile lifts the man’s face temporarily. “But our family here would not have that. These lost souls opened fire as some tried to defend me. In the end it was a futile effort as those with the courage to fight lost their lives and they still took their payment in my blood mixed with those of these good men and women.”

  Red turns to Merchant who looks at them all with a face of stone. The anger boiling her blood spills over as she chambers another round into her newly acquired rifle.

  “This is what you get, Brother, for trusting the safety of your people to your god! Prayer and faith do not stop bullets,” she screams and pounds her feet into the ground as she pulls up short of the huddled mass of shaken people. “The only thing that stops them is making sure they are dead before they can hurt you.”

  Looking over them all, Red finally catches a glimpse of someone she truly recognizes. Kelly, her long hair matted with blood and her face shiny in the moonlight where tears soak her from eyes well past her collar. Blood spots darken her shirt as she cradles the head of a young man across her legs. Skin gone pale she recognizes the chubby friend of hers with the stubborn pig.

  He looks peaceful. A streak of brown stretches from neck to ear, but if not for the pooling wound of darkness stretching over the hole in his chest, she could almost guess he was sleeping.

  Kelly’s eyes look up to her. A fire burns silently behind that look. Hidden and consumed with grief there is a fight there, but it’s being smothered.

  Fear.

  Torment.

  Loss.

  All of it is crushing the life of this young girl.

  “We could do nothing else,” Brother George says and steps toward her. A dark hand clamps down on his shoulder and holds him tight.

  Good thing, because if he had gotten any closer, she was going to ram the working end of her rifle into his gut and show him his god once and for all.

  “Nothing? You mean stand here like a bunch of fucking paper targets for men who are already trained to kill? You could have fought. You could have run. Something other than just waiting here to fucking die!”

  Red wheels around and kicks at the dirt. A puff lifts into the air and coyotes call into the middle of the night. Without a moment to think she lifts her rifle and fires a half dozen rounds into the darkness. The howls of the roaming beasts stop, but the crying behind her takes on a new cadence. This one wilder as those closest to her scramble back toward the broken doorway of the church.

  “Red,” Merchant says.

  She spins back on him. Finger on the trigger she’s ready to kill anything that moves.

  This was her family. The closest thing she has ever had to one in years and now it’s been cut down like a wounded dog. A dozen or more of them are dead. Their lives spent for nothing and what of those that remain? Lives are broken just as easy as their hearts stop beating. They will never be the same. This village will never be the same.

  No, this is not her home. With a heavy breath she looks up at Merchant. Part of her hates the thought, but there is a hidden voice that says otherwise. Nothing out in this empty wasteland will ever be home. Everything changes in a world lost to chaos. Only one thing in her short life has stayed the same so far and he stands right in front of her. A monster with a death wish, and a bag that one day she will take from him. She tries not to smile.

  “Merchant,” she whispers. Her shoulders are too tired, and she lets them drop as the fire in her blood cools fast and drains her of everything. Brother George nods and goes back to those that need him the most. “What are we going to do?”

  The big man steps up to her. In the darkness he is a featureless monster of bulk and height. Within those shadows the whites of his eyes glow brighter than the moon itself.

  “You wanted Mr. Barnett to pay for what he has done. He is not here,” Merchant says.

  “It’s too late, Merchant. What can we do? He’s already destroyed everything these people have.”

  Strength gone, Red sinks down into a crouch and tries not to watch the sobbing Kelly wipe away the soft hair from her friends closed eyes.

  “He is still out there. Regardless of how they feel, these people are still alive, and he will return. You know that. They know that.”

  With a deep breath she looks up at him. His face is expressionless, and he turns to the east and the shadows that cover the distance beyond.

  “You’re going to go after him, aren’t you?”

  He turns back to her and shifts the rifle he holds over his shoulder.

  “I don’t have any other choice.”

  Red takes one last look at Kelly and then a quick glance at the others. So much blood spilled and so much pain that will not go away for a long time. Dark mounds fill the shadows where the men they have already killed wait lifeless on the ground.

  “No reason to stay here and do nothing,” she says. Pushing herself back to standing, she puts her hand on Merchant’s chest. The warmth there is enough to melt away even the deepest of cold. “We have a date with Mr. Barnett and I feel it would be most kind of us to show up on time.”

  Merchant nods.

  Red shoulders her rifle and leads Merchant away from the collection. Eventually they’ll find the strength to get up and rise above the loss. Tonight, will not be the night. There is nothing she can do for them. Patience and forgiveness are not in her nature and neither is grieving. The heavy boots of Merchant follow right behind her as she leads them to the empty rooms outside the Sick House.

  No, she cannot forgive nor forget. And in the morning, they will make their way to this Mr. Barnett. He may be a rich man in this world, but he has a debt to pay, and she is going to be the one collecting.

  The ghosts of the night do not fade quickly. A blood red sun rises in the east and the smell of smoldering lumber and gunpowder hangs in the air. The wind is too weak, nor does it care enough to try to carry it away. The smell of warming bread and cooking sausages is rancid with the stench of death coating everything from one corner of town to the other.

  A world broken must move on. Lives do not stop where the hearts of loved ones fall silent. Tears dry. Nightmares persist. The pain fades but is never forgotten.

  Red steps out onto the porch across from the Sick House and takes a deep breath. Even the wood beneath her boots creaks and groans with agony. Her body is sore. A throb aches
between her shoulders and her neck and no matter of rubbing will ease it. The joints of her fingers are stiff and painful. The rifle on her shoulder is heavier than Merchant’s bag and she regrets how long it has been since she used one of these.

  She spits on the ground. A lingering taste of metal and bile burning her tongue. The killing comes easy. Bodies drop, and she stays on her feet. If there is a God upstairs with a plan, she wonders if this is what she was meant for. Dried dirt and blood cake beneath her fingernails. The fight from last night took more out of her than she expected, and her hands shake, but a fist hides it all away.

  Empty streets whistle in the early morning and they go on forever in all directions. No dogs. No people. The only living souls visible are the dark shadows of the birds that circle overhead.

  Where is Merchant?

  She considers going in and knocking on the door to his room. Maybe he could still be asleep? She doubts it. The man can fight for an entire day and still be up before the break of dawn. No, she won’t have him beat.

  A quick thought sends a cold shiver down her spine and sickens her stomach. The doorframe struggles to hold her up, but it succeeds none-the-less.

  What happens if he left without her? Would he do that? The acidic taste of vomit fills the back of her throat. Of course he would.

  He has one thing on his mind and that is going west. Dumb fucking bastard. Him and that need to reach the city that touches the sky. What kind of fucking shit hole place is that, anyway?

  Red hacks back the phlegm from her throat and sends it splashing into the dirt of the road. He went west didn’t he? Anger spikes within her and she grips her rifle like it’s the only thing holding her to humanity itself.

  “Fuck him,” she grumbles.

  If the bastard left her behind, he can go fuck himself. She’ll do this the hard way. Shoulders back, stiffness and sore muscles forgotten, Red heads into the center of town and toward the church.

  Everyone will be there. They haven’t buried their dead yet and Brother George talked all night about having a full day service for each of the fallen. What was the point? Dead corpses can’t hear your words and if there really is a Heaven, they sure as well don’t give two shits about what you say once they are worm food.

  She spits on the ground again as the anger turns into a sour mess between her teeth. The church stands like an ugly pillar beneath the darkened shadows of the town. The bell does not ring, and the holes ripped open across its face are as sorry looking as they are dreadful. Black soot stains the blue paint where the bastards tried to burn the place down and the scars will not leave this place as they won’t leave those who survived.

  “Red!” Kelly shouts as she steps outside the open doors.

  Young and naïve. Wet streaks from her eyes have turned into swollen cheeks and hair that resembles the mess of dried, brittle grass that piles beneath porches. The half smile on her face is the happiest thing Red has seen in what feels like ages.

  “Everyone here already?” Red asks.

  An adjustment of her rifle brings the teen up short as her eyes widen and stare at the weapon like it’s about to go off in her face.

  “Um… no,” she says without her eyes moving.

  A hesitant step keeps a small distance between them. Red reaches over and puts her hand on the girl’s shoulder. Turning her around she starts them heading back to the church.

  “Who’s missing?”

  The tension melts away from Kelly’s shoulders and she counts a few numbers beneath her breath.

  “Some of the surviving men and women refuse to come. They say they are packing their bags and heading to the river. They are going to follow it south and see where it leads them.”

  Reaching the front of the church, Red can hear voices whispering inside and the air hangs heavy with the smell of incense.

  “Anyone else?”

  Kelly shakes her head before peeking into the gloom inside.

  “Those who are staying are arguing what we need to do next. Some want to collect what guns we have and get ready to fight should Mr. Barnett and his men return,” Kelly whispers.

  “And the others?” Red asks.

  She knows the answer. Against all hopes she has to ask, but the regret of wasting her breath isn’t lost at all. Kelly kicks at pebbles sending them rolling across the road.

  “Most trust in Brother George. He says the Lord will take care of us all. They will follow him to the end of the world, Red,” Kelly whimpers.

  Red squeezes her shoulder and sits. The young girl turns to look down at her, dark storm clouds circling the poor child’s head and tears heavier than rain falling from her bloodshot eyes.

  “What do you believe, Kelly?”

  With a snort, the girl’s eyes flicker into the church and then back.

  “I… I don’t know. He’s been like a father to me. Ever since I arrived here, he has kept me… us all safe.”

  “Until now,” Red finishes the sentence.

  She pats the spot on the porch beside her and waits for Kelly to sit down. It feels like forever, but slowly, Kelly finds her spot.

  “Until now. I’m… I’m not sure I can do it anymore, Red.”

  With a soft but firm embrace, Red pulls the girl closer.

  “I understand,” she says. “There aren’t many people left in this world anyone can trust. It’s pretty fucked up out there. Look where it got me.”

  Kelly shifts away and returns a look of wide eyes and confusion.

  “Where it got you? You are here with us after all you have been through. If it wasn’t for you and Mr. Merchant, we’d all be dead right now, or worse.”

  Red scoffs before spitting on the ground in disgust.

  “Yeah, me and that bastard. Damn idiot left the first moment he got. Like I said, Kelly. Don’t trust anyone in this world. They may help you out when it suits them the most, but everyone will look for a way to stab you in the back when they get the chance.”

  Kelly’s lips move but nothing comes out. Looking off into the distance she slides back against Red and leans in for comfort and strength.

  “I’m guessing you are right. You’ve seen a lot more than I have of this world. Please promise me you’ll come back when you are finished, will you?”

  Now it’s time for Red to be confused. Turning and pulling away from the Kelly, Red is lost for words.

  “What are you talking about?” she asks.

  Kelly’s eyes trace the road away from the church and leading out of town.

  “Mr. Merchant. When I saw him this morning, he told me to let you sleep. Said you’d catch up to him soon enough. I begged him to stay, but he said there was no time to waste and that it was better he finds out what lays ahead of you two before you came in and messed everything up.”

  “Wait, what? Where did he go?”

  Red is on her feet and looking both directions. Inside she knows there isn’t a chance she’ll actually see him, but for some reason she can’t stop herself from looking for the dust cloud behind the monster of a man’s boots.

  “He left town and headed east toward where Mr. Barnett and his men went. Brother George and a few of the others tried to talk him out of it, but Mr. Merchant stopped them cold without saying a word. I begged him not to go, but he said he had to. Said something about a debt that had to be paid and that once you were rested, I was to tell you where he went.”

  Heart beating faster than ever, Red can’t hide the smile forming across her face. Palms sweaty and muscles aching to run, her mind spins with the possibilities.

  “That crazy bastard didn’t leave me behind after all,” Red whispers to herself.

  “About two hours ago,” Kelly says.

  Red turns and looks back down at her naïve friend.

  “He did leave you behind. About two hours ago to be exact,” she says again and points to the road leading east.

  A chuckle breaks itself loose and Red feels all the tension in her body leave a moment before the fire inside her belly
ignites once more.

  “I’ll catch up to him,” she says with a wicked looking sneer on her face. “Merchant and I have some unfinished business with Mr. Barnett.”

  Running her fingers through Kelly’s hair, Red smiles one more time and turns to walk away. She’s ready to run. Merchant is big and will cover a lot of ground, but he won’t get there before she finds him.

  “Will you come back?” Kelly asks, rising to her feet as shadows begin to move within the darkness of the church.

  “Soon enough, my friend,” Red calls back.

  Rocks kick up beneath her feet as she begins to jog. She has a monster to kill and an even bigger one to unleash. The fire behind her eyes is unmistakable as she leaves the town behind her.

  15

  A Home Without A Welcome Mat

  They described it as a fortress. A haven for those willing to live under the boot and law of a crazed man.

  It definitely is a fortress, but one built in the middle of a crater. Scorched land stretches for hundreds of yards in all directions. Blackened by fire and expended powder, bones stick out in gestures of defiance in their sun-bleached glory.

  All around, the world is ablaze and angry. The smell of war and death sits heavy in the air. Acidic and painful with each breath, the dark clouds hanging over the city roll across the sky but do not leave.

  Thunder rolls in the distance. A drumming that falls across the land in heavy waves that wash the sound of life away. A bolt of lightning streaks across the afternoon and ignites the ozone with a pop.

  Death is not a visitor here. It is a welcome sight among the other secrets this place holds. Merchant can feel it where he watches from a safe distance. Bodies begin not far down the single road leading to New Frontier. Desiccated from heat and disease, the corpses are almost comical. Torn to pieces by weapons and madness. He leans against the cold husk of an Oak; the life drained away when this land gave up years ago and looks down where his prey waits for him.

  "It's a god-damn battlefield down there," Red says.