by N A Broadley
“Get Tim, Bailor, Junior, and Tyson. Saddle up the horses and find those bitches!”
Kevin nodded.
“Oh, and tell them, I don’t care what they do to Rose, but the other girl comes back here alive! I will take care of that one myself!”
This message sent chills down Kevin’s spine, and he felt his stomach curl with nausea. His mind grasped the implications of what Bobby said. No, he would not pass the message along to the men. It would be like tossing a piece of raw meat into a cage full of rabid dogs. They would tear Rose apart, and by the time they finished with her, there would be nothing left but a bloody, ravaged body.
“I’ll tell them, boss.”
Turning on his heel, he made his way to find the others. But first, he wanted to take care of a few things. He would be party to most anything Bobby demanded of him, but not this. He would not be party to the slaughter of these women.
Kevin stepped around the back of the barn, just as the skies opened, sending chilling rain down over him. Ignoring the goosebumps on his arms, he cut three long blackberry switches. Sharp thorns pierced his skin as he carried them into the barn. Grabbing four-saddle blankets, he pinched the thorns off of the vines and placed several of them on the underside of each. Satisfied, he nodded. It would do the trick. Once those four saddled up the horses and climbed on top, all hell would break loose. Laughing, he moved on to his next idea.
The walk to his house took only minutes, a short distance, and in that time he gave thought to his next move. No more would he condone the cruelty, the violence caused by Bobby and his gang of thugs. He was done. He was a simple man. And before the event, he had led a quiet life. He thought he’d seen the evilness of man before the event. It was nothing compared to what he now experienced with this gang — the sheer terrorist tactics of pillaging, and destruction. The pure unadulterated evil of their twisted minds on their rampage of rape, murder and torture of innocent citizens as they violently took over one town after another. He hated this life, and he hated himself for being part of it.
By the end of this day, he would either be free of this nightmare or dead. Either way it would end his pain. Entering through the back door so no-one would see him, he dug deep into a box in the closet and pulled out a reel of deep-sea fishing line with a test weight of 130 lbs., meant for marlin and tuna. It would be perfect for what he had in mind. Quickly, he stuffed the spool into his jacket pocket and let himself out the way he’d come in. He had work to do.
Chapter Three
Spike swore when he heard Jessie growl. He watched her jump up and bolt down the hill, plowing through brush and brambles. He was soaked to the bone and chilled from the quick burst of rain that pelted him. Clenching his teeth to keep them from chattering, he stood and wrapped his jacket tighter around himself and shouted to the dog.
“Jessie! Come!”
Jessie paid no attention to him. Lifting his rifle, he peered through the scope and his heart dropped. He watched two women running through the field below. Adjusting the sight, he zeroed in on one of the women, bringing her into view. He swore under his breath and clenched his jaw as he recognized Sarah. About a thousand yards behind her, and coming fast, were five men on horses.
“Shit!” He dropped his rifle, placed two fingers to his lips, and blew out a short, then a more prolonged whistle; a distress call for Brian. He swallowed hard past the lump of panic in his throat. Lifting his rifle to his shoulder, he watched the horror unfold in the meadow below. Drops of rain trickled down his face, and he swiped a hand across his eyes to clear his vision. His heart began to beat hard, and his hands shook. With a deep breath, he steadied the gun.
He muttered softly, pleading. “Lead him in Sarah, just a bit more, my girl,” he said while he sighted in on the lead rider.
Brian heard the whistle burst and then the echo of a gunshot. He climbed onto his horse, wiped the cold droplets of rain from his face, and gave one last look to the man tied to the tree, the blood pooling on the ground around his feet. He’d deal with that mess later.
A swift kick set the horse into a run, climbing the steep hill toward Spike. He pulled his rifle from the leather, even before his horse skidded to a halt. His feet hit the dirt with a jarring thud, and he scanned the shadowed woods looking for danger.
Spike turned his face to him and snapped, lining up for another shot.
“It’s Sarah!”
His first shot missed the lead rider. He was too far out of range. He shook his head. Brian shoved him out of the way.
“Move!”
Brian laid on the ground and, using a fallen log for a brace, zeroed his scope in on the man. Wet pine needles clung to his legs soaking through his jeans. Fat droplets of moisture plopped from the tree branches onto his back, yet his focus never wavered.
The man and horse were barely twenty yards from mowing Sarah down. Through his scope, he could see the terror and panic on her face as she ran alongside another woman, and his heart exploded with rage. They were too far away for him to be of any help. Swearing, he jumped up and back onto his horse, and down the embankment, shouting back at Spike.
“We gotta get down there!”
He’d never forgive himself if those men killed Sarah. Beth would never forgive him.
∞
Tim was forty or so yards from the women, and he hooted with laughter. His horse stormed forward and the wet wind whipped across his face. His hands itched with the temptation to draw his gun and shoot them both in the back, but he stayed the itch. Bobby would kill him if these girls were not brought back alive. He kicked his horse harder, ignoring the foam spilling from its mouth and the deep panting, as its lungs pushed for even more speed.
Bailor was two horse lengths behind him and gaining fast. Tim got within ten yards and yanked hard on the reigns, bringing the horse to a halt. With a shout of triumph, he jumped from the saddle.
He tackled the mute girl and drove her into the ground with his body. He grinned when he felt her weak struggles beneath him as the wet grass soaked them both. He laughed at the fun of it. Hell, he might even decide to have a little go with this one before he dragged her sorry ass back to Bobby. Her struggling beneath him only served to entice him further, and he grabbed a fistful of her hair yanking back on her head. He hissed into her ear.
“Keep struggling, baby, it feels good,”
Flipping her over, he started yanking at her jeans roughly. Yes, this one was gonna be worth Bobby’s wrath, he thought. He grinned hungrily into her terrified eyes.
He was so intent on the woman beneath him, he failed to see the black and white shadow coming at him. Growls filled his ears as teeth sank into his throat. He screamed in pain and punched at the dog with both fists to get it off of him.
Before his eyes, Bailor barely got out a scream as a thin line of invisible wire cut into his throat, decapitating him in one quick motion.
Kevin watched the whole scene unfold with a grin while he held his mare at a slow canter. He’d strung that wire days ago it stretched just the right height from one tree on the left side of the field to another tree on the right. He’d been planning his own escape, but it satisfied him to witness the death of these evil men. How Tim missed the wire was a miracle, or so he thought, until he saw the huge German shepherd. The wire would have been a quicker death.
Behind him, still on the edge of the field, horses screamed and bucked furiously as the thorns dug into their backs beneath the saddles. He turned, snickering, while he watched the last two riders, Junior and Tyson, fall from their saddles. He pulled his gun and took aim, grinning widely as he pressed the trigger and watched Tyson’s head explode into a wet, bloody mess.
Jumping from the saddle, he saw Junior roll up onto his knees and take aim at him. He felt the first bullet slam deep into his gut, then turned his head and puked. Junior watched Kevin crumple into a heap on the wet grass. Another bullet rocked him as it exploded into his chest. He sank to his knees, and stared at Junior, stunned. He waited for death
and thought of the two women. At least he tried to save them. Coughing, he stared up into the sky as the last breath left his body.
Junior picked himself up and lunged for his horse, his legs slipping on the damp grass. They’d been set up, ambushed. He ripped the saddle off the screaming beast, jumped onto her bareback, and raced back toward town to alert Bobby.
∞
Brian rode through the light rain, watching the mess spread out before him. In confusion, he watched as one man fired upon the others. Shaking his head, he drew his rifle up; the only survivor was mounting in retreat. He couldn’t let him escape to warn the others. His jaw tensed as he tapped the trigger and brought the man down.
Confusion was written across his face when he glanced over at Spike, who shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.
“What just happened?” Brian laughed.
This wasn’t how he’d planned Sarah’s rescue, but he would take it. With a smile, he gently nudged his horse into a trot and spoke over his shoulder to Spike.
“Let’s go get Sarah.”
∞
Sarah stumbled and her hands slipped on the wet grass. She picked herself up with a cry, limping, and struggling to run. She could hear the horse’s hooves pounding behind her, and her throat constricted painfully with fear and defeat.
Blood soaked through the dirty dish towel under her shirt, and she felt its sticky drops running down her arm. Weakness; terrible and dizzying weakness, screamed inside of her as her heart threatened to burst from her chest.
They’d kill her. They’d kill Rose too. Bile rose in her throat. Defeat tugged at her frenzied mind. She screamed at Rose, she pushed harder, fighting waves of dizziness and nausea. Her breath hitched in and out of her lungs. When the body hit her and drove her to the ground, she let out a howl of anguish. Grass and dirt ground into her face; the smell, pungent and earthy. She struggled to breathe against the man’s weight.
With her last ounce of energy, she turned and fought: clawing, punching, and kicking. She felt her pants being tugged and she brought her knee up, smashing the man in the groin. She heard Rose’s screams beside her. Her breath rasped in and out and her hungry lungs gasped for air. The man’s cry of pain erupted in her ears as she felt him knocked from her, and she rolled away. Growls filled her ears and turning; she saw Jessie. Her heart leaped with joy. They didn’t abandon her; they didn’t forget her. Tears of relief ran hotly down her cheeks.
She crawled to Rose and through hitching sobs she whimpered, “We’re saved!”
Chapter Four
Brian leaped from his horse and ran toward Sarah. She stood, wavering on shaky legs. He reached for her and felt pain rock his jaw as her hand swung out with the fury of a hellcat and struck him.
“You! You left me here! Why didn’t you come sooner? Why did you let them take me?” she screamed, then threw herself into his waiting arms.
She stank of smoky campfires and sweat. Brian breathed it in pulling her closer. Her sobs, her tears soaked the front of his shirt. Her small body trembled against his and he tightened his arms around her. Stroking her hair softly and gently, he felt the sting of tears behind his own eyes.
He shot a look of sheer agony over her head toward Spike. Would she ever understand? Would Beth ever understand why he hadn’t rescued her right away? If he’d gone sooner, Bobby would surely have killed Sarah. He couldn’t have gone into this fight blindly, with nothing but rage to drive him. That would have been the worst thing he could’ve done. How could he explain that his delay was to prepare—to plan, and not walk or run blindly into this nest of vipers, not knowing how many he would be up against, or even where they were holding her.
“Baby girl,” he purred, his voice a whisper. He tightened his arms even more around her. Looking down at her face, he saw the bruises, ugly and purple, the busted lips from the beatings. A rage, dark and poisonous, filled him with hatred, and his whole body shook. He wanted to kill everyone in that town for what they’d done to her. Skin them alive for their part in her pain. Sucking in a deep breath, he stepped away from her and clenched his fists by his side.
“Spike, let’s saddle up. We gotta get these girls as far away as we can right now!” he snapped.
Lifting Sarah, he gently sat her atop his saddle. There would be time later for talking. The moment finally hit him, snapping his head toward Sarah.
“My God! You’re talking!”
“No shit, Brian!” She smiled weakly.
“Now, will you please take me home?”
He felt a smile tug at the corner of his lips, and he shook his head. A teasing light sparkled in his eyes. “Oh boy, we seem to have a smart ass on our hands now.”
He climbed up in the saddle behind her and heard Spike’s husky laughter behind him. “Yeah, buddy…the girl’s got spunk!” Spike said then kicked his horse into a trot, he and Rose leading them toward the wood line.
They rode hard and fast for hours before Brian finally called a halt. His bones felt jarred and saddle weary. Through clenched teeth he climbed down from the saddle; pain rocketed through his knees. He lifted Sarah down and set her gently on her feet. Blood soaked the front of her shirt, and she swayed dizzily. Reaching out, he steadied her and helped her to a fallen log, insisting she sit down.
He sighed and stretched his back while he gazed up into the clear sky. The rain stopped some time ago, and the air smelled of fragrant fresh pine. The temperature chilled his skin, raising goosebumps on his bare arms.
He looked back at her and shook his head. “Shit, we gotta get you patched up Sarah.”
Digging through the saddlebags, he found the medical kit Roger had insisted he pack. Spike and Rose moved up beside him with worried expressions.
“I didn’t have time to tend to her.” Rose murmured, and Brian turned to her.
“What happened?”
“Gregory beat her, badly. She shot him, but the bullet went through him and into her,” Rose whispered hoarsely.
“And Gregory?”
“He’s dead. That bastard is dead!” Sarah growled. She bent forward and leaned her head into her hands. There wasn’t a spot on her body that didn’t feel battered. Pure hatred flashed in her eyes, “And I’d kill him again if I could.”
Spike laughed softly, and his eyes sparkled with pride. “That’s my girl!”
Brian slid the shirt from her arm and gasped when he saw the bloody welts across her shoulder and back. What in the hell had they done to her? Biting back his rage, he examined the wound in her shoulder. She could use stitches for sure, but the bullet just grazed her, leaving a deep, long gash. He picked up his canteen of water and gently washed the wound, then applied an antibiotic salve. He added five butterfly Band-Aids and pulled the flesh tightly together taping gauze over it. It was the best he could do for the time being.
He felt Sarah’s eyes on him, and he looked over at her and smiled. “That must’ve hurt like hell, Sarah. You’ve been so brave through this.”
Sarah nodded weakly. Brave? That’s what he thought? She wasn’t courageous; she’d just been fighting for her life. That was sheer instinct, not bravery.
Glancing at him, she felt her face flush with shame. “I’m sorry I hit you. I thought you abandoned me. I waited so long for you Bri.”
Brian swallowed hard against the lump in his throat and with a touch as light as a feather, he stroked her swollen cheek. “I would never abandon you, child,” he whispered. “Never.”
He turned when he heard Spike cough from behind him.
“Okay, we’ve got to plan. You know it ain’t gonna be long before Bobby finds those men in the field. Then he’s gonna be riding hard and gunning for us. I suggest we ride straight through the night. We can make the compound by morning.”
Then looking at Rose and Sarah, he shook his head. “I know you ladies have been through hell and back today, but are you up for it?”
Sarah nodded. He had no idea of how much hell she’d been through these past few days. If riding thro
ugh the night meant safety, then she’d guide that damn horse herself.
Rose frowned. “I can’t. I have to go back,” Rose whispered and started sobbing.
They all looked at her with expressions of shock.
“Why? Why on earth would you even think to go back?” Brian asked. Rose’s eyes widening, she stepped back from him and splayed her hands wide.
“Because…” she stuttered between sobbing hitches, “my baby sister is back there. She’s only seven years old! I can’t leave her. I’m the only thing between her and Bobby. Without me protecting her, you have no idea of what they will do to her!”
Sarah felt her heart fill with a sick dread. She looked desperately at Brian, her eyes pleading with him.
“Sarah, I don’t…” he muttered helplessly. He saw anger spark in her blue eyes.
Standing up, she shouted at him. “No! No! I know what those animals are capable of doing! We are not leaving that child behind! What they do is bad enough for a grown woman but a child? A child?”
Spike moved up beside her and laid a hand on her shoulder, turning her toward him. He had to make her understand. It would be too dangerous to try and go back. With just the four of them, they didn’t stand a chance in hell against Bobby and his men.
“Sarah! Listen! We can’t save her!”
He cast a glance at Brian, looking for support, “Think about it! There are only four of us against how many? It would be suicide!”
Brian nodded. It chewed at his gut thinking of the little girl: defenseless, scared, and probably crying for her sister. His stomach turned, thinking of what his imagination told him would happen to her. With a shaking hand, he roughly wiped at his face. There had to be something they could do to save her. But God, as hard as he tried, he could think of no solution. Frustrated, he stormed off into the woods, away from the group. He needed time to think; he needed quiet.
