The Fall of Man: The Saboteur Chronicles Book 1

by J. V. Roberts

  “Yeah, they’re all dead.”

  She stood there in a trance. Then she began turning, taking in the small battlefield that had erupted around her; the bullet riddled wall, the shattered window, the hollowed out mattress. “My pants… where are my pants?”

  “I’m pretty sure I took them with me when I went out the window. They’re probably outside. We’ll get them. No worries.”

  “You look… terrible… are you shot?”

  There were chunks of skin missing from his chest and stomach. The yawning wounds were leaking badly. “No, I fell two stories on to a pile of broken glass.”

  “You need—”

  “Not the time.”

  She slid into her boots and began making her way around the bed, trying to keep her balance as she slid across the minefield of shell casings. She was as pale as the sheet she’d been sleeping under. If it were any other time the sight of Lerah wearing an undershirt, panties, and a pair of combat boots would be a comical one.

  “Get your jacket.”

  She picked it up from the table and slipped it across her shoulders. “I used up all the ammo.”

  “These assholes have plenty we can use. We’ve really gotta go, more could be on the way.”

  The carnage in the hallway set her back. Dominic didn’t think her face had any more color to shed, but she quickly proved him wrong. She just stood there, staring into the abyss of red and gray and piss and shit.

  “It’s ugly, but it gets easier. Tell yourself, as many times as it takes, it was them or us. Then promise yourself, every time, it’s gonna be them.” He put his hand on her back and she jolted. “Come on, get with it.”

  “Yeah, sorry, I’m fine.”

  “Collect the ammo.”

  She moved delicately among the shredded carcasses, desperately clinging to her composure as the thick stench of copper and excrement attacked her nostrils. She began ejecting magazines and stuffing them in her jacket pockets. “You sure these will work with our guns?”

  “Yeah, they are chambered for the same mag.”

  A high pitched howl swept up the staircase. “Oooh! My knees! My damned blasted knees! You barbaric sonofabitch! Union cunt! I’ll kill you!”

  “Collect the ammo and grab the bags, I’ll deal with this.” Dominic holstered the pistol against his waist, retrieved the machete from the wall, and started down the stairs. “Mr. Innkeeper, I have a few complaints regarding your establishment.”

  Ezra was set up against the counter, his mangled legs stretched out in front of him. He was sweating bullets from the pain, while doing his damndest to keep a brave face. “Oh boy, they’re going to kill you good; that Union cunt too. They’ll rope you up. Make you watch while they ride her raw.”

  “Now, you see, old timer,” Dominic tossed the machete from hand to hand as he descended the final two steps, “that’s kind of what I need to talk to you about. Who are those men?”

  Ezra lifted his head defiantly. “I ain’t telling you shit, traitor. Besides, you ain’t looking too hot, might wanna get that looked at before you keel over.” Ezra gave a sick little laugh.

  Dominic crouched in front of Ezra, wincing as pain shot through to his back. He was hurt bad, but there’d be time to tend to it later. “I was afraid you’d say some dumb shit like that, so I cooked up a little game for us.” Dominic slapped the top of one of Ezra’s broken knees with the broad side of the machete. “Listen up now, it’s important you know the rules. I ask a question. You answer it. You refuse, well, I start lopping things off. Things you don’t need. It’ll be a long time before you bleed out. You think broken kneecaps are painful? You wait until I start sawing your fingers off at the joints.”

  Ezra refused to make eye contact.

  “Who are those men? Why’d you spring them on us?”

  Silent defiance. His face was puckered, emitting the occasional sucking sound as he braved the pain pulsing through his legs.

  Dominic jumped on him and wrenched one of his bony arms back against the counter, prying his hand open.

  Ezra squealed and struggled beneath him. “Okay, okay, okay! Get off me!”

  Dominic crawled back. The blade was still cocked and ready to strike. “Last chance.”

  “They’re Rebels, they paid me! They’re looking for information on Union!”

  “Why?”

  “Why?” Ezra laughed. Saliva flowed eagerly across his chin. “Just cause the war is over for them don’t mean it’s over for us. Some folks don’t wanna live under no boot heel.”

  “Freeze, mister!”

  The boy. The goat herder.

  “I’d take your hand away from that there pistol and drop that blade. He’s a hell of a shot with a rifle,” Ezra said.

  Dominic dropped the machete and stood, slowly raising his hands above his head. “Don’t you got some goats you need to tend to, son?”

  “You throw that pistol, mister. I’ll drill you!”

  “I have no doubt you will, son. No doubt. You’ve got me dead to rights. But she’s got you too.” Lerah was at the top of the stairs, her sights set on the boy’s head. “Now, I’ve got no interest in seeing a kid come to an early end. So, drop that gun, we’ll walk on out of here and leave you to tend to your old man and the goats.”

  “Don’t you drop that gun, you little bastard! You hear me? You shoot this sonofabitch dead!”

  “Your old man has gotten a lot of people killed tonight. You don’t need to be one of them.” Dominic turned as he spoke. There was no killer standing there. Just a piss scared kid. The rifle trembling in his hands was busted all to hell. Damn thing would probably explode in his face. Still, Dominic wasn’t much on taking chances that didn’t need to be taken. He approached the boy slow, hunkered down, his fingertips leading the way. He watched the boy’s trigger finger, closely, very closely. “Come on, just lay it down and let us walk out.”

  “Drop it or I drop you!” Lerah leaned across the banister, wearing her panties and boots; she had their bags secured across either shoulder. There was no way she’d miss at that range. A gentle squeeze and she’d drill a round straight through the top of the little bastard’s head. It’d come out of the roof of his mouth and blow his jaw off. It’d be messy business.

  “Lerah,” Dominic held a hand up, “I’ve got this. We have a smart kid here. I can see he’s going to do the right thing.” Dominic took a step. And then another. One more and he’d be able to grab the gun and yank it away.

  “Alright!” The rifle rattled to the floor. “It’s not even loaded, mister.” The boy tripped over his own feet and fell back on to his ass.

  “You stupid little shit!” Dominic lifted him from the floor by the collar of his shirt. “You don’t ever point a gun at a man unless you intend to use it.” He brought the back of his hand across the boy’s mouth, bloodying his top lip. He whipped him around and tossed him to the floor beside Ezra.

  “Our canteens, get them.”

  Ezra spit a ball of bloody mucus at Dominic’s feet.

  Dominic raised the machete. “Where are our canteens?”

  “Behind the counter… they’re behind the damned counter!”

  “Get them.” Dominic nodded to the boy.

  He moved like he was getting paid for it, rushing spastically around the counter and returning with the canteens in a flash. They were brimming with fresh water as Dominic scooped them into his arms.

  “Sit your ass back down. Neither of you move until we’re gone.”

  The boy was crying now, his knees curled up against his chest.

  “You get all the ammo?” Dominic asked as Lerah hurried down the stairs.

  “Yeah, in the bags.” She handed one off to Dominic.

  “My shirt? Jacket?”

  “In the bag,” she said, agitation creeping into her voice.

  They backed through the front door, keeping the boy and the old man in their sights until they were off the porch. Then they turned and disappeared into the night.

  13r />
  There were a lot of things in his life that Blake wished he hadn’t seen. Colton sneaking into the back of the greenhouse was one of them. Him and the girl were going to make a break for it. Blake knew it by the way Colton had come running back out with a big goofy smile on his face.

  He’d secured his damsel.

  The plans were in motion.

  Blake had to stop them. They’d get themselves caught and then they’d take the Fall. Enough blood had been spilled. The last thing Blake wanted was to see two kids, dumb and in love, get themselves killed.

  With the cover of night and the moon perched behind a set of stubborn clouds, Blake had the advantage of concealment. He’d been watching Colton’s house since early evening. He was ducked down on the far corner of town, behind a pile of discarded wood. There was no one to take notice. He hadn’t reported back to Mother. As far as she knew he was still investigating. He’d been keeping an eye out for Zach and Toby too, the last thing he needed was for them to poke their snouts into the matter.

  I can handle this. I can set them straight.

  The final window in Colton’s home darkened and, just like clockwork, the bathroom window popped open. A canvas bag dropped from the darkness and hit the ground, a plume of dust heralding its touchdown. Two legs, and a torso, followed; it was like the house was giving birth. Colton crouched there in the darkness beneath the window, huddled over his bag. He was being cautious. He was being smart, which wasn’t saying much considering his current intentions. When Colton was certain he’d gone unnoticed he stood, shouldered the bag, and began moving through the town square. He stayed close to the buildings, in the shadows, out of sight of the Watch.

  Blake followed. He focused in on the pale canvas bag bobbing up and down in the darkness like a phantom. The girl’s house wasn’t that far down, three buildings, just past the church. Colton dropped his bag and crept up to the bathroom window. He checked his tracks and then reached up and tapped once on the glass. A period of time passed where Blake thought she may have acquired cold feet.

  Oh please, let it be.

  There was a wiggle of excitement in his belly.

  They could all go home. Go to sleep. Come morning, he could talk to Colton. Get him to see reason.

  The window opened. A canvas bag fell. Two feet emerged. Colton helped lower his lover to the ground. They embraced, exchanged a kiss, and then they were off. They were moving quickly towards the front gate, darting from building-to-building and shadow-to-shadow. Blake struggled to keep them in sight.

  What was their plan?

  Were they just going to storm the front gates and hope for the best?

  Politely ask the Watch to open them?

  Blake wanted to yell out. To pluck them up by their ears and hustle them back to his house for a reality check. But that’d attract attention. They were already deep within forbidden territory; out together past curfew, with packed bags, moving aggressively towards the front gate. It was enough to take the Fall, more than enough.

  They stopped near the lockup. Colton poked his head out to check the walls. Most of the guards had their weapons propped up next to their thighs and were leaned forward on their elbows, staring out over the Wastes with heavy eyes. Colton reached back and pulled Kati from the shadows. They moved quickly, ducking between the few strips of moonlight that managed to fight their way through the cloud cover.

  The gatehouse, they were going right for it.

  No, no, please God, no!

  Colton took something from his bag and reached for the handle of the gatehouse door. There was always someone inside with a loaded gun. Kati cowered in the shadows. He gave her a reassuring nod and began to turn the handle, slow and quiet. Blake sprang towards them, desperate to cover the distance before Colton drilled the last nail into the coffin. It was no use. He was too far out. By the time Blake reached the gatehouse Colton was inside. Kati was standing by the open door, shaking and weeping.

  The guards up on the wall had taken notice of Blake’s cavalry charge.

  “Hey, who’s down there?”

  “Show yourselves!”

  Blake looked from Kati to the open door. The candlelight from inside pooled out on to the ground between them. “What has he done? Kati, look at me. What has he done?”

  She shook her head and wiped her eyes. “I didn’t want this… I’m so sorry… please, I just want to go back home.”

  Blake continued to ignore the commands and threats from the guards as he stepped into the gatehouse. Their words, and the stomping of their feet as they rushed to make their way down from the wall, became nothing more than a dull buzz in his ears. The vision before him quickly overwhelmed his senses.

  “Colton… what did you do?”

  Colton stood above the crumpled body of the young gatehouse guard. He held a blood soaked butcher’s blade in one hand and the fallen guard’s rifle in the other. The body was still twitching, still leaking shimmering pools of deep red across the floor.

  “What the hell did you do?” Blake moved to disarm him, with no thought towards his own safety.

  As Colton swung around he dropped the knife and shouldered the rifle. “Back! Get back, right now, Doc! I don’t want to hurt you, but I will.” The kid looked like he’d been playing in a sandbox of blood and bodies.

  “Put that thing down. You’re just going to make it worse. They’ll shoot you.”

  “No, we’re leaving, me and Kati. We’re leaving, right now. You open the gates, you turn that wheel!” His eyes went to the door. “Kati! Baby! Come on!”

  “She’s not coming. She doesn’t want to go with you. She doesn’t want any of this.”

  “You’re lying! You’re a liar!” He was all snot faced and crinkled up. He dabbed at his eyes with his forearms. “Kati, get in here! Get in here!”

  The footsteps of the soldiers were growing louder, a steady drum beat. “Give me the gun, don’t be stupid.”

  “This is your fault! Your fault! If you hadn’t said all that… stuff.” Colton shook the rifle like he was trying to dislodge something from the barrel. “We had a plan! You pushed us! You made this happen!”

  “Colton, calm down, please, I need you to listen to me. There is a way out of this, okay? But it starts with you putting down the gun. I can help you figure something out.”

  “Figure something out? What? The Fall?”

  “I can talk to Mother, we—”

  “Mother is going to bend Scripture?”

  “I can explain things to her—”

  “We’ll take it from here, Doc.” Zach appeared beside Blake.

  “No, don’t hurt him. Let me talk—”

  “He said we got it; now get back.” Toby grabbed Blake by the back of his shirt and slung him towards the door. With Blake out of the way he turned his attention to Colton. “You ever shot one of them things, boy? Hell, I bet you ain’t shot nothin’.”

  Blake had officially lost control. They were about to kill the boy and all he could do was stand and watch.

  Outside the girl started to scream. The guards had seized her. Blake looked and saw her retreating into the darkness, a burly taskmaster gripping her under each arm, her feet dragging limply in the dirt.

  “Kati!”

  Toby raised his pistol and dropped the hammer. “Don’t move, boy.”

  “I got you both dead on, you hear me! Dead on! I pull this trigger and you die!”

  Zach emitted a big, lazy laugh. “Yeah, except you ain’t going to pull that trigger.” Zach stepped into the barrel, his hands on his hips. “Are you, chicken shit?”

  Colton squeezed.

  : : : click: : :

  Zach ripped the rifle from his grasp. “Check the safety first.” He rammed Colton in the jaw. The boy went straight down and landed in the coagulating blood of his victim.

  “Boot check?” Toby asked, eyeing his brother with a malevolent grin.

  “Boot check.”

  Zach was the first one to the party. He brought his foot up a
nd buried the sole of his boot in Colton’s gut. The air left Colton’s body like a geyser, a hard stream of pressure bursting forth from his lips. Toby followed up with two swift kicks to his lower back. The blows stretched him out and rolled him over on to his stomach. His limbs swam against the pavement. He was like a broken dog, trying desperately to pull himself to safety, gaining little traction against the slick gloss of carnage. He received two more kicks to the side and then one to the upper arm. Zach was setting himself up to deliver a crippling blow to Colton’s downturned face.

  “Stop it, damn you, stop it!” Blake shoved Zach off balance, sending him stumbling.

  “You little bastard!” Toby raised his pistol.

  Zach came off the wall, laughing and stroking his chin. “Doc put on his tough guy pants this morning.”

  Blake backed towards the door, his arms raised in a weak fighting stance. “You hang on, just one second.” Zach popped his knuckles menacingly. “I said you hang on, damn it! Now, this boy is going to face judgment for what he’s done. But we go by Scripture. Mother is the one that hands down the will of our Father. What do you think she’s going to say when he’s too busted up to even stand straight at the Fall? Huh? What kind of message is that going to send to the people? No law. No order. We just hand out ass beatings whenever we feel like it. Yeah, that’s really going to build the faith, fellas. Mother is going to love that. It’ll do wonders for the stability she is trying to maintain. So go on, have your little boot party, I’ll be sure to relay all of the details to Mother.”

  “You just think of it all, don’t ya, Doc? Fancy talker.” Blake could smell the old saliva clinging to Zach’s beard.

  “We are a people of rules. We are a people of laws.”

  “Rules and laws, you hear that Toby?”

  “I didn’t hear shit. All I heard was Doc whining like a little bitch.”

  “Me too, but somewhere in there he said something about rules and laws.”

  “Must not have caught it.”

  “Bring Colton over to the lockup, let Mother deal with it in the morning; it’ll be better for all of us.” Blake’s hands were still up, shaking; a feeble blockade.