Trail of Misery

by N A Broadley

  “You’ve got to be kidding me?”

  “What Bobby, what do you see?” Jose asked. He’d taken up position right behind him. Bobby turned and smiled coldly.

  “That’s Harris’ horse. They got Harris’ horse!”

  “How’ da ya know that?”

  “Because of the pink bow on the bridle, you idiot!” Bobby hissed as he danced excitedly. He found them — Billy’s killers.

  It took his mind only a few seconds to connect the dots. Harris must’ve caught up with the person or persons who killed Billy. There must’ve been a fight and Harris lost. That is the only way anyone would ever get Rider, his horse, away from him. He loved that horse more than his woman.

  Bobby turned to his men and gave them the signal to get ready. His stomach jumped with excitement, and he took several slow, deep breaths as he watched the two groups getting closer and closer to each other. Bringing up his rifle, he aimed at the woman riding Harris’ horse. His finger twitched in anticipation. With a hoot of laughter, a scream of excitement, he told his men to open fire.

  “Let’s rumble boys!” he yelled as he danced a jig and squeezed the trigger.

  Chapter Thirty

  Spike led them down onto the dirt road. They made it. Pysons Gap Road. He sighed in relief. It was only a few short miles to the compound from here. They were in the clear. As he brought his horse to a halt, he turned in the saddle and smiled and pointed to the road in front of them and the group of riders advancing. He was not surprised to see his grandfather leading the group but was surprised to see them out and about. He figured they must be doing their daily patrol of the area.

  “We’ve got company,” he said, then laughed. Brian, Sarah, and Beth all looked at him in confusion.

  “That’s my grandfather,” Spike announced, grinning as he turned back to the front and kicked his horse gently, setting it into a trot. Brian grinned and turned to Beth, who was smiling widely. His grin turned to horror as he heard the explosion of a gunshot to his left and watched her jump up in her saddle then crumple, falling to the ground as gunshots exploded around them.

  He launched himself from his horse and hit the ditch on the opposite side of the road. Drawing his gun, he looked toward the tree line. He could hear Beth’s screams as she lay writing on the ground and a rage of helplessness burned through him. They were surrounded, and he couldn’t get to her. Gunshots rang out from both sides of the road.

  He watched in horror as both men and horses fell in the onslaught. Scanning the tree line, he aimed and watched as a man tumbled out from behind a large Pine tree.

  Crawling along the muddy waters of the ditch, he aimed in on another man and pulled the trigger. The bullet hit home, and he watched as the second man fell.

  Glancing over he looked for Spike. He saw him lying in the middle of the road. He wasn’t moving. His heart raced, and his hands shook. He took a deep breath to steady himself and scanned the woods. Once more, he saw the bright flash of a gun being fired and aimed in on it. The whine of a bullet close to his ear sent him ducking behind the scrub of grass in the ditch and planting his face into the muddy water. He grit his teeth and exploded up, firing and sprinting for Beth.

  ∞

  Beth lay on the ground, stunned. Her hip screamed with burning pain as she stared up at the pale blue sky and watched as clouds floated in and out of her view. She heard screams from both men and horses as the battle raged. They rode head-on into an ambush. Confused, the question of how Bobby and his men found them ached for answer.

  She heard Jessie barking wildly then yelping as she fought to protect Sarah. She watched as a large man stabbed Jessie, driving her to the ground and then grab Sarah and throw her across his saddle. She screamed in rage and agony, her throat raw with emotion.

  She tried to move, tried to reach for the gun at her side, but found her hands wouldn’t cooperate. All she could do was listen and watch as the horror unfolded around her. She cut her eyes to the left and saw Spike dance like a puppet as one bullet after another slammed into his body. Crying, with snot dripping from her nose and trickling down her face, she struggled to move as helplessness filled her.

  As sudden as it began, it stopped, and silence filled the air. Men and horses littered the ground. The shooting stopped, and all that remained were the moans of the injured and dying. Brian knelt beside her. Bending, he pulled her into his arms, and his heart exploded in silent agony as he held her to him. She looked up into his face, and tears rolled in fat droplets from her eyes.

  “You promise me,” she said between hitching bubbly breaths, “You promise me you will get Sarah back.”

  Brian nodded. He would get Sarah back, even if it meant traveling to the ends of the earth and killing a thousand men; he would get Sarah back.

  “I promise Beth.” He whispered as he buried his face into her soft, auburn hair and held her tight. He could feel the anger singing in his veins, white and hot as it ripped through him.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Roger climbed out of the gutter holding his arm as blood flowed down it and dripped off of the end of his fingers, leaving a trail of bright red droplets on the ground. His ears rang with the echoes of gunshots now gone silent. Stunned, he gazed around. What just happened?

  Men and horses littered the road. His eyes landed on Spike who lay prone in the road, writhing and twisting like some garish puppet being tugged on by an unseen hand. Dragging himself into a run, he crossed the road and kneeled over his grandson. His heart exploded in fear.

  “Spike! Spike!” he yelled as he pulled at him with his good hand. His voice sounded like it was coming from an echo chamber.

  “Grampa?” Spike choked as he moaned in pain. “I’m fine, help me sit up.”

  Roger shook his head. He’d seen the bullets slamming into him. He wasn’t fine.

  “No, son. Stay still; you’ve been shot.”

  Spike winced then grinned. Yes, he’d been shot. Several times. Reaching a hand up, he tapped on his chest and coughed and then moaned and grimaced. His chest felt like a troop of dancers just tapped danced across it.

  “Bulletproof vest, Grampa. You know I’d never leave home without it…ouch!”

  Roger shook his head. He didn’t know whether to hug him or kill him.

  “Fuck boy! I thought you were a gonner!” he said, then smiled as he used his good arm to help him up off the pavement.

  Once standing and steady, they both took a look around. Spike saw Brian kneeling over Beth who lay on the ground and his breath caught in his throat as his heart plummeted to his gut. Rushing over, he knelt beside him while Roger went to assess the damage to his own group of men.

  “How bad?” he asked.

  “Bad. She needs a doctor. Like now.” Brian replied, his voice cracking with panic. He held a folded-up shirt tightly to her stomach, applying pressure. There was so much blood. His hands were covered with it, and it was still pouring from her as if someone turned on a faucet.

  Roger came slowly walking toward them, shaking his head. He had four of his men dead and two wounded. He instructed his men to begin loading them onto the horses and get them back to the compound.

  What happened? Who ambushed them? He stopped beside Spike and looked down at the woman on the ground. Blood pooled underneath her and formed a garish puddle near her left hip. Her lips, he noticed, had a distinct bluish tinge which told him she was losing ground fast.

  “We have a doctor in the compound. Get her loaded up and be quick about it or she ain’t gonna make it.”

  Spike gently lifted Beth to the horse Brian was sitting atop. She moaned softly. Brian held her tightly against his chest. Looking down at Spike, he cut his eyes to the ditch.

  “Bring Jessie. She’s been stabbed.”

  Spike nodded.

  “Sarah?”

  “They’ve got her man. They got her,” Brian hissed, his eyes filling with pain. Spike felt his heart plummet.

  “We’ll get her back. You can bet on that, my friend!�
�� he growled.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Brian looked coldly off into the distance. His eyes saw nothing and everything. He tucked the knife into his waistband. A cold and dead calm settled over him. Reaching down, he stroked a warm hand across Jessie’s head.

  It had been one week since the ambush. Jessie healed well and now was ready to travel. The doctor at the compound, Zeke, operated on Beth then sedated her heavily. The bullet was lodged deep into her hip, shattering the bone. She’d lost so much blood that for days they all had doubts that she would survive. But she was a fighter; he’d give her that. She hung on.

  Through many long hours, he sat by her bed while Lori, one of the nurses at the compound, checked in every few hours and changed her bandages, adjusted her I.V.s and gave her more medication. She did her best to keep her as comfortable as possible. On the fourth day, she finally opened her eyes, and Brain knew the danger passed. It felt as though a great weight was lifted from his heart.

  He stood tiredly and stretched. Looking at Lori, he motioned for her to follow him out of the room.

  “I’m going for a walk,” he said. She smiled and nodded. He’d been by Beth’s side for the past four days, and she thought it was way past the high time he took a break. She envied Beth in that she had a man that cared for her as deeply as this man did.

  He walked slowly through the compound. His eyes were taking in every detail. He whistled softly, impressed with set up that Roger had going. The compound consisted of several outbuildings. A clinic combination hospital, a common cafeteria, a common shower facility, and a large building for meetings, worship and anything else they needed it for.

  There were also small, efficiency homes, about one hundred total. Up high, there were towers with platforms constantly manned with armed guards. The perimeter of the complex heavily fortified — a series of ditches filled with coiled barbed wire followed by more barbed wire fencing. A few yards in, away from the ditches, ran another line of defense, this time more medieval. A wall of spiked sticks sharp enough to impale horse or man ran the entire length of the perimeter. It was medieval and efficient.

  This Roger, he thought smiling, damn sure didn’t fool around when it came to defending his own. These defenses were some very serious business. He was sure there were even more nasty surprises that he wasn’t seeing.

  As he walked, he thought of Sarah, and his heart hurt with the pain of knowing that monster Bobby had her. His hands shook with rage as he thought of what that pig might be doing to her and he swore, by all that was holy, he’d make that man pay for every pain he might be causing her.

  He’d made himself wait until Beth was out of the woods before leaving to fulfill his promise to her of finding and bringing Sarah back. She was now stable, and he was anxious to leave. Anxious to go and right a wrong. Sighing deeply, his mind made up; he walked back to the hospital.

  He entered the room and sat beside the bed. He smiled as Beth opened her eyes and gazed into his.

  “I’m going to get our girl back,” he said softly.

  Beth nodded. “You bring her back to me, Brian and while you’re at it, make sure you come back in one piece as well,” she whispered weakly.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  “Well, girl. It’s time we go hunting. Let’s go get our girl back, okay?” he murmured. The dog growled softly as if in reply. He climbed up into the saddle and kicked the horse gently. He had become the killer again. And it was time to go to work. Hearing a cough from behind him, he turned in the saddle.

  “I work alone,” he growled.

  “Sorry buddy, where you go, I go,” Spike said, then laughed as he saw Brian’s scowl.

  “Yeah buddy, ain’t this gonna be some shit show fun!” Spike said then hooted with laughter. He had a score of his own to settle. If it weren’t for Bobby, his wife and sons would still be alive. Yeah, the man hadn’t killed them with his hand, but the men who worked for him did and the way Spike figured it, he was as much to blame as the dead man with his throat slit lying out on the trail.

  Yes, he had a score to settle. And, he had a certain, sweet little blue-eyed girl to rescue, one with a beautiful smile and a bad attitude. And he had a friend who needed his back watched whether or not the arrogant bastard would ever admit to it.

  “Just shut up and ride,” Brian growled.

  The cop and the killer. Shaking his head, Spike chuckled as he kicked his horse gently and sank into the rhythm of her gentle gait.

  If you’ve enjoyed this book, then keep watch for the next story in this series, Valley of Vengeance. The journey continues. One fraught with the perils of this new landscape as new friends are met, and new enemies are around every corner.

  Valley of Vengeance:

  Brian made a promise.

  A simple mission to rescue Sarah has turned into one of the most dangerous journeys of his life. He finds himself torn between rescuing Sarah and setting out for safer grounds or standing strong and taking on one of the most dangerous gangs in the North East.

  About the Author:

  N.A. Broadley lives in New Hampshire. On the homestead where she stays prepared. She lives a simple life, surrounded by family and friends.

  Writing has always been a passion, and she’s grateful for the time and opportunity to engaged in activities that allow her the pleasure of following that passion.

  Join her in The Written Apocalypse and Women of The Apocalypse, two great Facebook groups for more exciting books and releases from many great authors. A place to chat, swap stories, and keep up on the latest and the greatest.

  https://www.facebook.com/groups/writtenapocalypse/

  https://www.facebook.com/groups/WomenoftheApocalypse/