by AJ Powers
Clay raised his free hand slowly into the air. “Listen, Silas, just let Dakota go, and you can do whatever you need to do to me. She’s just a kid for crying out loud,” he pleaded.
“I don’t think you’re in any position to negotiate,” Silas said. He gestured to the floor with his pistol. “Put the girl down, and put both your hands up.” He looked at Dakota. “And you, go back to your room!”
Clay crouched down, and gently let go of Dakota. She slid out of his arms and as soon as her feet hit the ground, she made a beeline for her room. She shut the door, jumped into bed, and put the pillow over her head. Her sobbing was audible to both men.
Silas stood still; his gun remained locked on Clay. There was a hate in Silas’s eyes that sent a chill down Clay’s spine that he usually felt when he heard the terrifying shrieks of the night.
“You know, I really just can’t decide,” Silas said with indecision in his voice.
“What’s that?” Clay felt obligated to reply.
“Should I turn you over to Watson? Or just kill you right now. Of course, that’s assuming you didn’t go and kill Watson before you came here.”
“So sorry to hear of your difficult dilemma,” Clay said dryly.
Silas laughed. “I appreciate the sarcasm. It has made my decision much easier.”
He straightened his arm holding the revolver and rested his finger on the trigger. “Nobody likes a sma—”
The sound of multiple gunshots fired from nearby caused both men to cower. The front window shattered and Silas grunted, grabbing at his neck. Clay had no idea what had just happened, but there was no time to try and figure it out.
While Silas was reacting to the bullet that grazed his neck, Clay charged him, ramming his shoulder into Silas’s chest. He picked the man up off the ground and slammed him into the back wall in-between the two doors. The air in Silas’s lungs quickly escaped, leaving him gasping for a refill. Clay heard Silas’s pistol hit the ground but had no idea where it landed.
Before Clay could react, Silas head-butted him and broke free. Clay’s vision flashed as an excruciating pain soared through his head. His right eye quickly became impaired with the copious amount of blood pouring out of the gash just above his eyebrow.
Both men were stunned. Clay tried to clear his vision while Silas struggled to catch his breath.
“Silas!” a voice from out front shouted. “You okay?”
The men from the other cabin had heard the shots and were outside investigating. Clay darted over to the shotgun and picked it up. Just as he retrieved the gun, the front door exploded open and one of Silas’s men came through. Clay fired, dropping the man immediately.
Clay turned just as Silas was rushing him. He knocked the shotgun out of his hands and landed several consecutive blows to Clay’s face. Able to finally deflect one of Silas’s attacks, Clay punched Silas in the shoulder where he had been shot two weeks ago.
Silas let out a booming roar; the pain only seemed to fuel his rage. Ignoring the throbbing pain that followed, Silas grabbed Clay and threw him into a wall.
Several more gunshots erupted outside.
“Contact!” one of the men screamed, and all of the sudden, it sounded like the OK Corral.
Kelsey.
While a war raged on outside, both Silas and Clay exchanged vicious hits, quickly wearing each other down. Clay took another swing, but his body was fatigued, and his punches were slow and sloppy. Silas evaded the attack and grabbed Clay’s arm, throwing him to the ground next to the stove.
He pressed Clay’s face up against the blazing cast-iron stove, causing a scream that was matched by the intensity of the pain. A surge of adrenaline and anger allowed Clay to overpower Silas, throwing him off. Silas stumbled back several feet before tripping over a chair. As Silas hit the ground, his eyes rested on the shotgun lying on the floor just a short distance away.
At the same time, Clay spotted Silas’s revolver and scrambled to pick it up. As Clay spun around, gun in hand, he heard Silas pumping the shotgun.
The sound was deafening.
For a moment, Clay’s eyes locked with Silas’s. Fear and anger was all they saw in each other. Both men wanted the other dead, and for one of them, that moment had finally arrived. Suddenly, Silas’s stare went blank. He dropped to the floor hard; he made no attempt to get up.
Clay was still aiming the gun where Silas had been standing. The smoke drifting from the muzzle quickly dissipating as it rose into the air. Clay’s ears were ringing, and everything was slightly muffled, as if he were submerged in water.
Clay walked over to Silas and looked down at his dead body. He wasn’t sure where he had aimed, and the recoil from the extraordinarily powerful cartridge was far greater than what he had anticipated, but the shot could not have been more ideal, right near his heart. It’s why there was no last attempt to fire upon Clay, why there were no departing words. Silas was dead before he hit the ground.
The sound of approaching footsteps snapped Clay out of his daze. He looked towards the door just as it burst open.
Clay dropped down to his knees just as the man fired. The blast was high, missing him entirely, and devastating the wall behind him. Clay raised the gun and pulled the trigger. The hand cannon kicked back wildly once again; Clay knew his shot was off.
The man screamed as he stumbled back out the door. He tripped off the small step and fell backwards into the mud. He was clutching his shoulder and groaning in pain. Before Clay could stand up, a second man ran through the door. This time, Clay’s shot was true, and the man dropped to the floor without protest.
Clay rose to his feet and quickly made his way over to the wounded man outside. He was struggling to get up off the ground when Clay came up to him and wrenched back the hammer on the revolver. The man froze.
“Please,” he said while still gripping his shoulder. “Don’t kill me.”
Clay kept the gun trained on him, not because he was considering an execution, but rather to prevent the man from trying anything foolish.
Clay saw Kelsey out of the corner of his eye. She walked up next to him and remained silent. Her expression was ice cold as she looked at the wounded man. Clay looked over at her and made sure she was okay before returning his attention to the man in front of him.
“Go,” Clay said as he pointed back towards the front of the property, “and when you get there, you tell Watson what happened. You tell him that he brought this upon himself. You tell him that if he even thinks about coming after Kelsey again, he will share the same fate as Silas. Got it?”
The man didn’t say a word. He just scrambled to his feet and ran towards Watson’s. As his image faded to black, Kelsey turned and threw her shackled arms over Clay’s head, and gave him a fierce embrace. She began to cry into his chest as the adrenaline wore off, and the full weight of the last 10 minutes came to the surface. Despite the cold rain soaking them to the core, Clay wanted to stay in that moment forever. But time was not their ally.
“Is she in there? Is she okay?” Kelsey quivered, fear holding her from entering the cabin by herself.
He squeezed her tight, then eased her hands back over his head. “Come on,” he said as he leaned towards the door, “let’s go get your daughter.”
Chapter 34
Clay exhaled deeply. The warmth of his breath bouncing off the towel and back into his face was incredible. He slowly transitioned the towel to the top of his head and began drying his hair before draping the cloth over his shoulder. He was still sopping wet, but at least his head was dry.
Kelsey was doing her best to warm up Dakota who was wrapped in a towel as well as a blanket. Despite the extra layers, Dakota was shivering like an Eskimo, and her lips were still a tinge blue. Kelsey lay her down in bed and placed another blanket on top of her.
“Get some sleep, Koty. I love you,” Kelsey said with a warm smile that contrasted her frozen face.
It had taken them nearly five days to reach Liberty. After leaving Watson’s
ranch, they picked up a pack that Clay had stashed a few miles to the north and traveled as far as they could before hunkering down for the night in a convenience store. Between physical exhaustion and injuries, they traveled much slower than Clay had realized. The constant downpour didn’t help much either. It rained nearly the entire time, only easing about three miles outside of Liberty. By the time they reached Vlad’s, it had become little more than a drizzle.
Megan and the others had left just two days before, according to Vlad, which meant they stayed longer than they were supposed to. He wondered how far they had traveled. The notion of getting a bit of shut-eye and eating some grub before quickly leaving to try and catch up with them was an idea that he was forced to abandon. Kelsey and Dakota were tired. He was tired. The thought of continuing the rest of the journey without some true downtime was unbearable at best. They would stay in Liberty for two nights and leave early on Tuesday.
Kelsey walked over to Clay as she tried to wring water out of her hair with the towel. The color was slowly returning to her cheeks. Her eyes filled with some life again. She rested her head on his chest and wrapped an arm around him. A sigh of contentment escaped her lips as she closed her eyes and held him.
Clay kissed the top of her head and gently rubbed her back. Kelsey giggled as she lived in the moment. She was in the arms of the man she loved, her daughter was just a few feet away, and Jake Watson was out of her life. It was perfect.
“It just doesn’t feel real,” Kelsey said.
Clay looked at her quizzically.
“Me. Dakota. Being away from the ranch. It’s like a wonderful dream that I worry I am going to wake up from.”
Clay smiled and stroked her hair. “It’s no dream.”
Kelsey broke away from the comfort of Clay’s embrace so she could kiss him. “Thank you,” she said before kissing him again.
A muffled “ewww” erupted from beneath a pile of blankets on the bed, creating a humorous but awkward moment for the blushing couple.
Clay glanced down at his watch. It was nearly noon, but none of them had slept much since leaving the ranch. “Well,” Clay said reluctantly, “I’m going to go back to my room to try to warm up some and maybe get some sleep. You should probably do the same.”
Kelsey smiled. She was overwhelmed with total joy, a feeling she truly hadn’t felt since long before the ash fell. “Yes…sleep sounds good,” she said as her smile faded to fatigue.
Clay kissed her again, this time a quick peck as to avoid further commentary from the three year old on the other side of the room. “Sleep well,” he said, then walked out the door.
He walked a few feet down the hall and went into his room. Vlad’s “hotel” was completely vacant except for the three of them. It was strange having a house that large, that nice, and that warm all to themselves, even if they were just taking up two small partitions of a large bedroom on the second floor.
Clay stripped down to nothing and kicked his soaked clothes into the corner, creating a loud thwop as his pants landed on the floor. He would have to figure out how to dry them later since he neglected to pack a change of clothes. He was rather preoccupied before leaving the tower, and the foresight to pack such things didn’t cross his mind.
He gave a sigh of relief as he plopped down into the cozy bed and buried himself beneath piles of sheets and blankets. He was finally dry and could actually feel himself start to warm up. He felt incredible. He felt…relaxed.
Gradually, the stress from the events of last week were melting away. Peace was creeping back into his thoughts, something that had been largely absent over the last month.
It didn’t take long before his eyes got heavy and random thoughts began to zoom through his head, a sign that sleep was nigh. Suddenly, a knock on the door roused him from his tranquil state and startled him, he sat up quickly.
His first movement was defensive, but he quickly remembered where he was and his tension eased.
Another knock.
Clay cleared his throat. “Who is it?”
“It is Boris,” Vlad said with a chuckle.
“Hang on,” Clay said as he struggled to pull himself out of bed.
He grabbed the towel from the floor and wrapped it around his waist before opening the door.
Vlad was standing there with some folded clothes in his hand. He immediately joked about Clay’s attire—or the lack thereof—which drew laughter from both men. Vlad was aware that Clay was trying to rest, so he got straight to the point.
“I forgot your sister gave me letter for you,” he said as he held up a piece of paper folded multiple times. “She is very lovely girl, reminds me much of Olesya.”
Clay nodded, “She’s pretty awesome.”
Clay looked down at the clothing Vlad was holding. “Oh, yes!” Vlad exclaimed, “I bring you change of clothing,” he said as he handed them to Clay.
“Thank you, Vlad,” Clay said with heartfelt gratitude. Vladimir Bezrukov was as good of a friend as one could have anymore. Clay examined the shirt and noticed it was a black button up, beneath that a pair of nice khaki slacks. “Is this what passes for lounge wear these days?” Clay joked, but was still grateful for some dry clothing.
“Did you notice activities at center of town when you arrived?” Vlad asked.
Clay thought about it, but couldn’t recall. The tunnel vision was so bad by that point, he was surprised he found his way to Vlad’s, much less notice things going on around town. He shrugged his shoulders, “Not really.”
“Tonight is town feast Mayor Shelton hosts every year. Big event in middle of town. Food, music, dancing,” Vlad said as he mysteriously produced a tie and held it out in front of him. “You two have fun.”
“Wow,” Clay said, completely caught off guard. “That sounds great and all, but we’re not even residents here, so I—”
“Mayor personally ask for you to be there.”
“Well, I would hate to be rude,” Clay said, “but what about—”
Vlad interrupted again, “Do not worry about little girl. I have Olesya watch her. No problem at all. I keep an eye on them both; I have much to do in my store anyway.”
Clay conceded, not that he had much of a choice in the matter. “Sounds great!”
“Festivities start at seven,” Vlad said as he turned and walked back down the hall. “Enjoy, my friend.”
Clay closed the door and put the folded clothes on a dresser up against the wall. He walked over and sat down on the bed and unfolded the piece of paper.
Clay,
We waited an extra day for you, please don’t be mad. It was against my better judgment to leave without you, but I will respect your wishes and continue on anyway. The rain smocks you made for each of the kids last year are working great and allowed us to travel when the weather wasn’t too severe.
I looked over a map with Vlad. I am hoping that we will arrive in Northfield by next Sunday, Monday at the latest.
Vlad and Olesya have shown us a great deal of hospitality. He is every bit as great as you mentioned and more. Please give him my deepest thanks.
Take care, little brother. We will see you when you arrive.
Megan
P.S. I’m proud of you.
After his fifth attempt to properly make a knot with the tie, Clay gave up and tossed it on the bed. He undid the top button of his shirt and left well enough alone. There was a dresser in his room which had a small mirror on top. Clay fiddled with his hair which was still damp from the bath he took 15 minutes ago. He couldn’t remember the last time he had soaked in hot water for that long. It was almost euphoric, and he caught himself dozing off more than once.
Unfortunately—probably for Olesya—the bottom of the tub was a disaster afterwards. He wanted to clean it out before he left, but he was already running late.
It had been years since Clay looked in a mirror for mere vanity. Such worries were laughable in the world now. But tonight was different. Tonight had Clay’s stomach is knots, and he
wanted to do everything he could to impress Kelsey.
He stepped back from the mirror for a wider view of himself. He brushed some lint off his sleeves and buttoned the cuffs. With a quick smirk of approval, he left the room and headed downstairs to meet Kelsey in the living room.
As Clay rounded the corner, he stopped just before taking the first step down the stairs. His mouth dropped open, and he stared in awe at the beauty down below. She smiled at the unrealized compliment Clay was paying with his involuntary pause.
“Wow,” Clay whispered, nearly in disbelief.
From the moment Clay met Kelsey, he thought she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. He knew that if he felt that way about her in a world such as the one they lived in, that she would be indescribable in less harsh circumstances. His imagination completely undersold the reality.
Kelsey’s blush was camouflaged beneath some light makeup applied to her cheeks. She wore her hair up, her bangs framing her face. She was wearing a ruby shade of lipstick, and the dark lines surrounding her eyelids created the perfect accent to her beautiful green eyes.
It was then that he saw the dress. There was nothing special about the dress itself; it looked like the type of garment one would find at a thrift store, yet Kelsey made it work. She made it look stunning.
Without saying anything, Kelsey walked away from the stairs and headed into the center of the living room. Clay quickly made his way down the steps and walked over to her, giving her a kiss. “You look…beautiful.”
Kelsey smiled. “Thank you,” she said giving him a quick once-over. “You’re not too bad yourself.”
Clay noticed a clock on the wall and saw they were late. “Shall we?” he said as he stuck his arm out.
Kelsey hooked her arm through his. “We shall.”
