by Logan Keys
But even so, Brittany knew what she had to do. So when Dusty's goons showed up, she went with them, first in line.
They brought Chuck and Paige along as well.
The party was freshly started once more, although, it had probably never ended. Once Brittany got to the stage she walked right up to the leader and lifted her chin. "Leave Chuck and Paige alone. Use me instead. It will still get your message across. It will still teach us all how you're in charge. But, leave them alone. I volunteer."
Dusty grinned and Paige and Chuck's mouths dropped open in surprise.
He chucked her under the chin and winked. "That's not what I want from you. The payment we spoke about before? Well, you are a very very pretty girl...Brittany was it?"
She shuddered and flinched when he rubbed a knuckle against her cheekbone. "Your friend blew up my tanks. So, she gets to entertain my guys but you, well, sweet little angel..." Dusty licked his lips and Brittany felt the world tilt.
She was going to pass out.
Chuck struggled with the man holding him. They forced him to the edge of the stage and Dusty started his rants again about how they'd all been unfree before. Which wasn't a word. But Brittany stopped hearing any of it. Her mind raced, and then a ringing began in her ears.
How long had it....been....since...her thoughts swayed with the world. How long had it been since she'd had any food? Or water? or sleep?
She reached out, trying to brace herself, but nothing was there.
Brittany hit the ground like a sack of bricks. Her mouth gaped open like a fish out of water. She couldn't breathe!
"Help her!" Paige cried and then she leaned over Brittany but someone kicked Paige in the side. Kicked her off of Brittany, and then someone poured water across her face.
Rough hands slapped her and pawed at her. "Get up," the man said and then Dusty was there, acting like he cared.
"You okay?" he asked, concern clouding his power hungry gaze.
Brittany nodded but she couldn't stand yet. The mean one lifted her into sitting position too fast.
And the world went black.
Chapter 5
Nogales, Arizona
They were completely surrounded. Luckman knew that even with the three of them, there was nothing they could do against an entire gang of riders who wanted the house.
"How about we negotiate with them?" Terry said and Luckman nodded.
"I think it's our only option."
"But you said...." Cal sighed. "I think you were right though, Lucky. They will kill us. So is it worth the risk?"
"I can't ask you guys to risk it," Luckman said. "Joseph's been shot. Maybe they will let us move him and German into town. I don’t know what is the right move. I really don’t. Maybe we should try to talk to them."
"Hell to the no," a voice called from upstairs. Josephine came running down, still pulling off her bloody gloves. "They are not running me out of my home!" Her eyes took on a crazed gleam. She threw down her gloves and grabbed a shotgun they'd sat next to the door.
Before anyone could say or do anything Josephine flung open the door and started shooting. She cocked her gun and fired at the man standing there, shooting him off the porch.
Then she aimed at the leader who was back up on his horse, holding his shoulder. She fired but it missed and only spooked the horse he was on so bad that it wheeled and galloped off the trail. The others were returning fire as Josephine pulled the gun off her hip and started wildly shooting at everyone in the yard
Luckman too, along with Cal, finally stopped their gaping and started firing.
The return fire blasted through the house. Terry hid in the kitchen. Jean rushed downstairs and helped Luckman on his side, ducking and hiding, and then peeking out to shoot.
They'd taken out at least three of the gang members, that much Luckman was certain of.
But the riders had more guns and people, and soon, no one was returning fire but hiding in their spots. Cal was in the kitchen with Terry
"Josephine!" the younger man called desperately, and Luckman told Cal, "I'll get her."
Luckman ducked across the entry way and tried to spot Josephine. She was face down on the porch when he lunged toward her and latched onto her hand before dragging her back with him into the house. He managed to shut the door. With it closed, Luckman was able to pull Josephine to the side and roll her over. Cal came to his side with a gasp. Her wounds were many and they were bad. "Your father..." Luckman said, wanting to get Joseph.
She shook her head and coughed up blood, her eyes distant. "Is dead,” she whispered. Josephine smiled bravely. “And it looks like I'll be joining him soon."
"But you got some of those bastards," Luckman said, gripping her hand tightly.
Cal worked fast…but death was faster.
“You got em…” Luckman promised.
"Yeah." Josephine sighed and then faded away.
"She's...she's gone," Luckman told Cal who was still trying to work.
"No,” the young man cried, still trying CPR. When that proved useless he hugged her body to his and Luckman finally realized why Cal had come to Nogales after all. Cal wasn’t just crying over a friend, but perhaps a love. “Josephine!" Cal cried, sobbing.
When he was through, he turned to Luckman. “Joseph?" he asked.
Luckman shook his head, and Cal glanced away, his face crumpling with despair.
Terry appeared and was wringing her hands, obviously not wanting to interrupt, but needing to refocus the group. "What do we...what do we do now?" she asked.
Luckman shook his head and glanced at Jean. "I'll go talk to them," Luckman said
"No," Jean said firmly. "I will."
When Luckman went to argue she touched his sleeve. "I am the only expendable one. Cal needs to be here for German and so do you. Terry, my dear, you need to stay alive and find your family. I think you will. Give those babies kisses from their auntie. And you, Lucky, lead them to a safe place okay? I mean if this doesn't work out." Jean laughed a little, tears filling her eyes. "I am going, and you can't stop me."
Luckman pulled her into a hug. "Let me do this," he pleaded, but she wiped her eyes and kissed his cheek.
"No. I have no one other than you guys here. I'm going. No arguments."
Luckman stayed behind, and he watched as one of the bravest women he ever met as she turned and opened up the door. "Don't shoot! She called. I'm coming out. I'm unarmed."
**
It felt like forever between the moment that Jean stepped outside and the gang responded to her offered truce to stop shooting and speak.
The man Luckman had shot before had regained control of his horse. He dismounted and came to the porch for Jean and him to speak. It was hard to hear, but Luckman stopped being patient and went outside after he realized they wouldn't risk shooting their leader and so he was safe.
"I’m unarmed,” Luckman promised as he stepped to Jean's side.
She gripped his hand tightly. Jean seemed brave, but now that he gripped her hand, she was shaking, and her hand was cold as ice.
"What do you propose?" the man asked tipping his hat once more at Jean, making Luckman want to shoot him all over again. So smug, Luckman thought with anger. He was all country manners, meanwhile, trying to murder them for breathing.
"I'm Kent, by the way," the man offered, and he held out his hand.
Luckman did take it, but only to smear it with Josephine's fresh blood before he pulled away. "Luckman."
Jean pointed to herself. "And I’m Jean,” she said with impatience. “We propose that we leave and you all stay. We don’t live here. You killed the owners. We don't want any more trouble. We've all lost enough good people. And you have…too."
Kent laughed. "Who Roger? Frank and Jess were no one to no one. They won't be missed. Casualties of war are quickly forgotten in this time. "
Luckman bristled. "We've lost people that matter! You murdered them!"
Kent held up his hands. "Law is whoever makes it r
ight now, partner."
He was a country accent and a cowboy hat trying to play good-ole-boy, but when he stared at Luckman, something cold and calculated slithered in his dark gaze. "We have a couple of your people." Kent snapped his fingers and a man rode forward. Behind him were two men bound and gagged, badly beaten. The officers, Joseph’s men. Luckman had almost forgotten about them.
"How about this," Kent said. "I'll let you all go, but you leave these men with us."
"What?" Jean said. "Why?"
"Let’s just say I've had some bad luck with the law, Ma’am, and retribution is in order."
Luckman’s thoughts filled with dread. "What are you going to do to them?"
"Hang ’em." Kent said it like he was speaking of the weather and not an execution. Luckman felt like someone kicked him in the gut. "We can't just let you murder them."
Kent frowned, his big brows pushing low. "Why? You know ’em? They your buddies or something?"
"No. But it's not right."
"Ah. A man of morals. I like that. Real righteous anger types are always pretty fun to watch...until they switch sides as soon as the going gets tough."
Kent lunged forward, and he grabbed ahold of Jean. Quick as a snake he pulled a knife and held it to her throat. "Ah. Ah. Ah. Back off, or I cut her.” He waited for Luckman to stop moving then nodded. “Them or her. Your choice."
Luckman was frozen at the sight of the knife flashing bright in the night at the slender and thin throat of a person he’d come to care deeply for. Dawn was approaching. The chill of night was easing up some, but his breath still fogged out of him as he panted in fear, unsure what to do.
"Please," Luckman said. “Let her go.”
"Then you choose them to die? Am I right? Say it."
Luckman wasn’t sure what to do. He couldn’t make the choice. He couldn’t live with himself.
Jean was quiet, and her eyes pleaded with him not to do it. She would rather die. But the officers would die either way. Of that Luckman was certain. They weren’t going to just give up. This was a game. Cat and mouse.
And Luckman was lower than the mouse at this point. He was the piece of cheese between them and the mice were dead already.
"Let her go!" Luckman growled. His body was reverberating with fury. "Dammit! I said...." And Luckman's mouth dropped open and he squinted into the darkness and a familiar face stared at him through the darkness. "Holtz?” he asked in surprise. "Is that you?'
One of the riders was sitting crooked in his saddle, and he was merely watching all that was occurring with very familiar skepticism. Luckman shook his head and pointed at the man. "What in the hell are you doing!" he shouted.
Holtz slid down from his ride and made his way over. He put his hands in his pockets. "Well, well. Surprised to see me, Lucky?"
"Yeah," Luckman said, not wasting his breath on a lie. "But not surprised at the company you keep"
"Oh yeah? You left me to die. So how is that any better than this lot?”
"I left you on your own. There is a difference. You had the donkey and food and water..."
Holtz snorted. "Well the donkey lamed up, and I got lost. These gentlemen saved me. And you know what?" Holtz turned to Kent, "I think you should string ’em up with the others."
"Yeah?” Kent asked, clearly enjoying the reunion.
Holtz rocked on his heels and smiled. “Yeah.”
Kent whistled, and the others rode out of the darkness. They grabbed ahold of Luckman roughly and tied his hands behind his back. Kent thankfully let go of Jean and tied her hands behind her back too.
"Come on, boys!" They stormed into the house and Terry and Cal were there, hands above their heads.
"Check the other rooms," Kent shouted.
One of his men went upstairs. "Some sleeping guy is up here!" he called down. "Big ’un. Looks like they been doctoring up people in here."
"One of you a doctor?" Kent asked and Cal nodded.
“Me,” Cal answered.
"Good. I need someone to look at this shoulder. Stings like a son of a bitch."
Cal sighed. "If you untie me...then..."
But Luckman could tell Cal didn’t want to help the man who’d just killed two people who were like family to him. He glanced at Luckman with a gaze that asked, ‘What choice do I have?’
Cal was untied, and he sat with Kent on the couch. Kent pulled off his shirt and jacket, revealing where Luckman had shot him. It was just a graze along the ribcage, and already scabbed over.
Luckman, Jean, and Terry were put on the steps of the stairs, their ties looped around the posts.
Kent called out to his men outside. "You guys find us a tree." He grinned at Luckman. “You thought I forgot huh? Only the Doc here is gonna get a pass. Sorry about that." He tipped his hat again at Terry and Jean. One of Kent’s men stopped by the stairs. He looked Jean and Terry over for a minute, then he said, "Why not let the girls stick around and keep us company, Kent?"
"What kind of company?" Kent asked, quietly, in a warning kind of way.
The man put his fingers into Jean's hair and she shoved away as far as she could. Luckman fought with his binds to get at the bastard. "The kind that keeps a man warm on a cold-cold night."
Kent sucked his teeth. He spit some chewing tobacco onto the floor. "Only two things bring a gang down faster than you, and that's money and women. We don't need money anymore. And these women aren't but two and that's not enough to go around."
“It could be,” the man said with a shrug and a wink.
Luckman had never been so furious in his life.
Kent pushed Cal's hands away from his patching up of the wound. He got up on his feet and his cowboy boots scraped the floor as he approached the man who'd touched Jean. "This here is the wild west now. Gunslingers and hard ridin’. It's a beautiful thing. One difference from now to the old days was though a man might drop you dead right where you stand," he paused, pulled his gun from its holster, and fired through the man's heart so fast that if Luckman had blinked, he would have missed it. The man fell where he was, and Kent went on as if he never had quit, "but raping and beating women, now was that the gunslinger’s way? Nah. He didn’t need to do that to a woman to get her respect. Listen up all you idiots. We are the type of men to kill a woman if that needs doing, sure, clean and quick. But we are twice as likely to put our coats over a puddle for the weaker sex." Kent glanced at Jean. "Sorry about that sweetheart." Then for the rest of them he yelled, "Chivalry is not dead, gentlemen. We are bringing back the ways of the west. Don’t worry though," he grinned, “the ladies will come to swoon at your feet soon enough. Once we rule this town, they will see who the new roosters are in the hen house."
The men chuckled but Holtz was staring at Kent in horrified fascination---admiration.
Luckman gave him the dirtiest look he could manage when Holtz caught his eye.
Holtz grinned. "German upstairs? Maybe I should go give my regards."
No!" Luckman called, trying to stand but tethered.
But the other scientist was already jogging up the steps. “No!” Luckman shouted, afraid that Holtz was about to take his revenge against German. Payback for the beating he gave him.
Holtz was gone for a few minutes while Luckman sweated, fearing the worst. He came back down and paused near Luckman’s place. "Don’t worry," he said. "He’s still asleep. Maybe I can uh..." Holtz put his hands in his pockets. "Talk Kent into letting Cal go check on him.”
"Why would you?” Luckman asked cautiously. He didn’t buy it for a second that Holtz wanted to be on his good side. The man hated him through and through after what he did and maybe he deserved that. Maybe.
Before Holtz left, though, Luckman tried---he had to. "Holz. Talk him into letting us go. We won’t bother anyone and we will just go. I’m sorry for leaving you. I knew you were capable of making it out. I give my word that we will leave without a problem."
Holtz snorted. "Your word? Your word," he crowed with laughter. "That is about
as worthless to me as my melted core samples that probably sank to the bottom of the ocean. None of this means anything anymore, Lucky. You better get that through your thick head.” Holts chortled. "It might be better off if you all hang. You ever think of that? Because once guys like Kent take over, there’s no room for people like us. I mean, I can handle it because I figured survival of the fittest, right? Science supports this type of thing and I'm taking notes. Hell, maybe some day they will award me for being vigilant during this time and observing the next step in evolution.”
Luckman sniffed with disdain. "So, what does that make you, Holtz? A monster."
"And that might be the next on the chain of avoiding extinction." Holtz patted his shoulder. "And you guys might as well all be monkeys."
Chapter 6
New York
“He’s gone?” Michelle said, staring at the place where Seagerman had been before.
Bob had returned, and he was shrugging his surprise. “He’s not there. I’ve searched all over.”
Michelle wasn’t going to trust it. “You sure? He might be hiding.”
“Fine. I’ll check again.”
What was wrong with her? Michelle pushed herself to the edge of the counter and peered around it. “No. Bob, wait.”
He sighed. “Let me check again. One second.”
Bob approached the counter and placed the gun over the side before he glanced over the top. “He’s gone.”
Michelle slumped back against the counter. She frowned and sat straight. The blood had slowed, but she couldn’t avoid the throbbing ache that radiated through her painfully. It was making her feel woozy, too, from blood loss.
Bob returned and helped her to her feet. Together they found the first aid kit and Michelle felt helpless to know what dressing to use for a bullet wound. “Is the bullet still in my shoulder you think?”
