Billie laughed. “Fuck you,” she said, rolling to the fridge. “So what do want to eat?”
She blushed as she stared at her.
“I knew better than to wake you up like that, for real, what do you want?”
“Anything, whatever’s fine.”
“We should get Norman to come with us when we go to the prison,” Billie said as she took out a plate of deer meat.
“Think we should?”
“I think so, I don’t know him that great but he seems like he’d know his way around the land, guns too.”
Billie put the plate down and Rachel grabbed a chunk of meat. “I hope he’s okay. It’s been a day, he should’ve been back by now.”
• • •
Outside the Cascadia wall.
Norman looked a man up and down. The man was dressed in a black suit and wore a metal chest plate. He had short brown hair and a beard, and atop his head, a small golden crown. “You a prince, huh?” he asked, pinging the man’s armor.
He glanced at him and stepped aside. “Please stop that.”
Crimson glared at Norman. “Yeah, stop bothering the Divine, they’re our guests here and I’m sure Prince Christopher doesn’t wish to be fingered.”
Norman bit his tongue. “Ain’t nobody fingerin’ nobody,” he said with a little chuckle.
“You know what I mean,” she said as a black sedan rolled up to the entrance.
“Oh this oughta be good, who are they? The goblins here to attack the kingdom?” Norman asked, glaring at the prince.
A man got out and walked up to the wall. He was tall and pale. He wore black slacks and a black dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His brown hair was slicked back and he had a short beard. “Abraham Solomon,” he said with an English accent. “Temporary leader of the Tribual. Crimson? Where is Peter?”
Crimson spit at his feet. “Abe.”
Norman swung his rifle off his back and aimed it at Abraham. “What the hell are Tribuals doin’ here?”
Abraham raised a brow and laughed. “Do you know where my brother is, country boy? Dutch.”
“I don’t know, English boy, ‘cross the pond?”
He laughed. “I’m from here, and I presume you’re from a place of inbreeding and a horrible education system.”
Crimson reached over and lowered Norman’s gun. “Why would we know where Peter is?”
“Perhaps because he was in the area, like these silver suits. Now that we’re back on our feet, Peter wished to make allies with some of the communities. This trip, he planned on visiting Argentina and Cascadia.”
Norman spit on Abraham’s shirt. “We just came from Argentina, ain’t no Tribuals there, and if there were, I’d kill ‘em!”
Abraham glared at Norman. “Crimson. Who’s the yokel and the ninny?” he asked, wiping off his shirt.
“Norman, he was an Acquainted, and that ninny, is Prince, Christopher. Arquette. One of the leaders of the Divine!”
Abraham scoffed. “Never heard of them.”
Christopher raised his brow. “Probably because we try to keep our noses clean and avoid people like you. The only reason we’re here is to thank Crimson for assisting a group of scouts-”
“Son, I couldn’t care less. Now, where, is, PETER!”
Norman shoved him back. “They said they don’t know, now get movin’!”
“Very well.” Abraham nodded and took the walkie off his belt, radioing his men. “I suppose you won’t mind if we search this place then.”
The Cascadia Hospital.
He leaned on the counter, Janey standing beside him. He wiped blood from his lip as he talked with an older woman in a long red dress. She wore her brown hair up, and her face was painted in a thick layer of makeup.
“Tuberculosis?” she asked.
“Yeah, they said there’s nothin’ they could do for me so I’m thinkin’ I’ll head home. Spend the time I got left with my family.”
“I am truly sorry for you, Jonathan. But, I believe my people may have what you require. Perhaps you could speak to my husband about working for him? He may bring you back with us.”
He tilted his head, blood oozed from the corner of his mouth. “Really?”
“I think so. But you would have to work to repay us for the supplies.”
John nodded, then shrugged. “Uh- I might need treated for more than just that. I don’t know what all’s wrong with me. I got it pretty bad.”
As they talked, a man ran in with a pistol. “Where’s Peter Solomon?”
The woman grabbed her chest. “Oh my!”
The man stared at her for a moment and raised his brows. “Hey,” he said, pointing his gun at her. “You’re that Queen Magdalene bitch! You run the Divine clowns, don’t you?”
Janey put her hand on her pistol and glanced at John.
John spit blood on the floor and stood up straight. “Leave.”
The man took one look at John and laughed. “Fuck off, retard.”
The man charged at Magdalene, and as he reached her, John jumped, tackling him to the floor.
He sunk his teeth into the man’s throat and ripped out a huge chunk of flesh, spitting it back in his face.
The queen gagged. Covering her eyes, she swallowed her vomit. “You- Jonathan, you saved my life!”
John looked up at her, his mouth gaped open, blood running out. “Don’t...” he said, rocking back and forth as he leaned on the body. “Don’t, mention it,” he said as everything turned black.
Outside the wall.
“Call off your dogs, Abe!”
“When they find Peter, or can confirm his absence. And when we search Argentina, if he isn’t there either, we will do this again.”
Christopher pulled out his sawed-off shotgun. “No. You won't. The Divine stand with Cascadia and its people. This is the first, and the last, that your kind will run amok in it. Do you understand that?”
Abraham smiled and patted Christopher’s shoulder. “Cute, son.”
• • •
That night, Norman returned to Argentina and crashed on John’s couch.
Shortly after, Rachel woke up and saw him drinking. “Norman? What the hell, you and John just left!”
“He said goodbye, didn’t he? He told me the whole ride what you guys said. He couldn’t stop thinkin’ about it, don’t act like we cheated you outta that. Besides, he wanted to die beside his brother, didn’t want his only kid to see shit. The reason Morgan even let him out was ‘cause he wanted you to watch him die!”
“Okay, where were you?”
“I don’t gotta answer to you, little miss princess! But somebody had to stay there and take care of it! Why, you mad? Well I woulda gladly let you do it! You think I wanted to lose a friend like him? You think I wanted this? Naw, if I could go back, I’d happily let you do it!”
Billie rolled out of the bedroom. “What are you people yelling about?”
Norman watched as Rachel started to cry, and he tipped the bottle back to his mouth. “I ain’t gonna apologize. But don’t go givin’ me that shit and I won’t give it back! Only reason I even came back today was ‘cause of an attack the Tribuals have planned. They’re lookin’ for their leader, Dutch, won’t stop till they get ‘em either.”
Rachel rubbed her eyes. “Is John dead?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you see it happen! Because the last time he died he didn’t!”
“I WATCHED IT! We took him to Cascadia, said they couldn’t help him so I took him to his brother and left!”
“Did you bury him?”
Norman shook. “I SAID I HANDLED IT!” He threw his bottle at the wall. “Cascadia sent him on his way, said they couldn’t save him- his plan was to get better and come back, he just didn’t wanna get your hopes up!” Norman jumped over the couch and went to the fridge.
“This isn’t your house,” Rachel cried, wrapping her arms around Billie.
“Well these ain’t your bottles so shut the fuck up.” Grabbing
a beer, Norman slammed the fridge shut and stormed to the door. “Every day since John got captured, it was me watchin’ that! Any time Morgan’d come in to whoop my ass, John’d start tauntin’ him till he fucked off and left me. Even when he knew he was gonna get beat almost to death, he still took it and he did with a smile! Why? Because he knew he was savin’ my ass! That’s just the kind of friend he is! Me and Jamie wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for him. You mighta lost, but so did I, so fuck off.”
Later that night, unable to go back to sleep, Rachel and Billie sat on the bed, reminiscing about John.
“I couldn’t ask for a better dad,” she said, staring at a photo of her, John, and Jamal. “Neither could John, him and Jay actually had a kind of family thing. Jamal was just that kinda guy, you know? He really felt like family. We were close.”
Billie stared at the photo of John at the end of the room. Beside it was his Schofield revolver and cowboy hat. “He was awesome...”
“Me and John have been together since it all started. Almost six years... He didn’t even know me or if I was lying but he took me from Wisconsin all the way to Florida, just to get some stranger’s kid to her family... Yeah, he was pretty awesome.” Rachel laughed. “We talked about swimming once and he literally drove all the way to Virginia. He did his best to keep me happy and he took better care of me than my own family did...”
Billie picked up a photo. “Who’s this?”
“Jessica, she was Carver’s sister. John and her were pretty close, kinda like a brother-sister thing in a way. Like they were closer than Jessica and Carver were. But he didn’t really like people knowing they were related, something about people treating her differently if they knew she was the leader’s sister.” Reaching over, Rachel picked up a photo of her, John, Kesler, and Carl. “You’re all I have left, Billie...”
“I love you.”
“How much?”
“So much... Words can’t describe how I feel about you.”
Rachel blushed and bit her lip. “Do you maybe wanna... You know? Just try them on?”
Billie smiled. “The rings?”
“Like we don’t- we could just put them on, to see how they feel?” She pulled John’s wallet from her back pocket. “Do you?”
Billie laughed and kissed Rachel. “I love you. I’ll always love you, and I’ll never not love you. Yes Rachel, I’d love to try on the rings.”
• • •
The same night, at the Ohio base, Morgan was pumping iron in the gym.
A man at the opposite end of the room stared at him. “Take it easy, Boss.”
Morgan dropped his weights and sat up on the bench. “Excuse me?” he asked with a laugh.
“Not that long ago you could’ve died, and just yesterday you were shot! Take it easy, you’re not gonna lose that muscle after a few days of rest.”
Morgan smiled. Standing up, he picked up a fifteen-pound weight. Looking at the man, he licked his teeth.
He dropped his weights and put his head down. “You’re gonna throw that at me now... Huh, Boss?”
He grinned. “Not if you stop talking.”
“Thank you.”
“You talked!” Morgan threw the weight, hitting the man in the chest and dropping him to the floor. “But to be fair, I would’ve made you thank me if you didn’t.”
Reaching down for his weights, Morgan saw Zion dart across the hallway. “ZEE! GET IN HERE!”
Zion ran to the doorway. “Yes, Boss?”
Morgan smiled and put his hands on his hips. “Did the boys find any more of my drugs?”
“No, unfortunately.”
“Really?” He scratched his chin. “We’re talking medical shit, Zee. None of those showed up?”
“No. None.”
“Isoniazid, ethambutol, rifampin? ...Nothing?”
“Zero.”
Morgan put his head down and laughed. “That’s, um... Well fuck.” He waved him over. “Come here for a second.”
Zion walked up to Morgan, shaking. “I’m sorry, Boss.”
“Ya know, it’s funny, because. I know you know. I know you know Lydia stocked the drugs, and I know you asked her to hide them.”
Zion busted out laughing. “That’s ridiculous!”
“Is it?” Morgan laughed. “Something nobody but the women know- is I make them carry recorders! I make them carry them so we have proof, God forbid something happen to one of them...”
Zion’s eyes widened. “Boss-”
“I heard you tell her to hide them. I heard you when you begged her not to say anything, when she told you no!”
“I just- I wanted to be the one to surprise you with them.”
Morgan lifted a seventy-five-pound weight off the floor. “I heard you say he’s gonna die anyway! How am I supposed to not be super fucking suspicious of you after that?”
“She’s a liar, Boss! The recording- I want to hear it! It’s not me on the tape!”
Morgan grinned. “That’s always the case, isn’t it?”
“I promise-”
“Holy fuck, I can’t believe you’re still trying!”
Lifting the weight over his head, Morgan swung it down with all his force, smashing open Zion’s skull. “Cock suckin’ snake,” he said, dropping the bloody weight and continuing his workout.
Chapter 20:
SHOTS
The next day, outside Rachel’s home, she heard a pounding on the door.
“Leader girl,” an English man yelled.
Pulling the door open, Rachel rested her hand on her revolver. “What?”
“You’re Rachel. The leader here, correct?”
“And you are?”
Walking up behind the man, Morgan laughed. “Honest Abey! I’m sorry, Rachel, I woulda been here sooner but me and my men took care of some Tribuals we caught snooping around your woods.”
Abraham spun around. “YOU!”
“Me!” Morgan grinned as he blasted a hole through the bottom of Abraham’s jaw. Blood splattered on Rachel and the body hit the ground.
“No need to thank me, my boys did all the work. Killed about thirty Tribs we found scratching at your back door! Now them, you should thank.”
Rachel wiped her face, staring at the scar, somewhat visible behind his beard. “How are you, Morgan?”
“You’re not your dad,” he said, swiping the revolver out of her holster. “Your dad cared, you don’t. Don’t pretend to.” Morgan dumped her bullets on the ground and tossed her gun inside. “So Bill, she still stuck in the chair? There’s a reason she didn’t come with you to the base back when the Tribu-tards escaped. Her legs are as fucked as two fuckless fucks, aren’t they!” Morgan laughed.
Rachel stared him dead in the eyes.
“With one hand I bet it’s hard as hell to push herself around, but no worries, I’ll do plenty of that.”
“She’s gone.”
“She’s not dead, is she? Holy fuck, I-” Morgan stopped as Billie wheeled out from the bathroom. “Never mind.”
“Good morning, mister Williams,” Billie said, shaking in her chair as she rolled up beside Rachel.
“Oh sweet Billie... You just wait for the piping hot plate of shit sorbet I have waiting for you...”
“Sorbets frozen-”
“Is now really the time?”
Rachel crossed her arms. “What do you want?”
“Grab Chair-Girl, let’s go for a stroll.”
Leaving the house, they headed down Argentina, toward a circle. All of their people were on their knees with guns pressed against their heads. A scary but familiar sight.
“Rachel, do you know how close you came to killing me?”
Rachel rolled her eyes. “Too damn-”
“Too damn close!” Morgan laughed. “When your daddy failed my test, my plan was to lock him up and teach him one final lesson. But theeen, Malig-cunt released the Tribuals, and that kinda put me on edge. Got the whole place on red alert after that. And if that wasn’t the worst thing since f
uckin’ daddy, YOU shot me! Not only did you shoot me, something I could have believed was an accident, but you slit my god, damn, throat!”
“And I’d do it again.”
“And that’s what I love about you, kid,” he said, patting her on the back. “But no. Not after today. Fuck no you won’t.
“As I was saying, then I brought John back to you, and you shot me again! That one was way too close to my pride and joys!”
Morgan took Billie from Rachel and wheeled her into the circle.
“Morgan, come on, I’m the one who almost killed you, not her.”
“Do you love her?” Morgan grinned, staring at the ring on her finger as they entered the circle.
“Nothing to say? Yeah... I thought so.” Morgan dumped Billie out of her chair and flung it out past the circle.
“Look around you,” Morgan hollered, looking around the circle. “All of your friends and loved ones, the en-fucking-tirity of Argentina, with guns pressed against their heads. For the last. Fucking. Time.”
Rachel walked over to Morgan, staring him in the eyes. “Do your worst.”
“Oh I fucking am,” he said, grabbing her by the face and pushing her to the ground. “Rachel, you fucked me,” he said as he slid off his jacket. “And in turn, I fucked you,” he said, taking off his shirt. “But when I fuck you, you fuck me back!” Morgan slid his pants down half way, revealing the messy fresh wound, left by Rachel on his leg. “Every time you fuck me, I fuck you!” Morgan pulled his pants up and crouched down, grabbing Rachel’s hand. “And when I fuck you, you fuck me back,” he yelled, pulling her hand and making her touch the deep, twisted scar on his chest. “You feel that? That is an infinite loop of fucks is what that is!” Morgan got up and stood over her. “Count my scars! They’re almost all from you! How many do I have?”
Rachel looked at Billie and then glared at Morgan. “Not enough?”
“FIVE! Five is the correct fucking answer! You shot me pretty damn close to my balls, you shot me too fucking close to my lung, and you slit MY, GOD, DAMN, THROAT!”
Rachel smirked. “It’s a shame it didn’t kill you.”
Morgan took a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while. I cut your daddy’s arm off, I could do that to you, but we already did that once, then sort of to Bill, and I like being creative! I could have you raped, but I guess I already did that too... Remember, when your father had his cock inside you? Damn that was an awkward ride home, wasn’t it?” He laughed. “So fuck it!” Morgan slid his machete off his belt and tossed it on the ground. “You are gonna take that, and for the love of god, don’t slip up because it’ll cost all of these people their lives! Now, what you’re gonna do, is cut your girlfriend's legs off!” He grinned, glancing at Billie and looking back to Rachel. “It’s okay, she doesn’t use them anyway! And when you’re done with that, you’re gonna cut her arms off. Then maybe her tits, if she’s an outie you’ll do some renovation downstairs, and after that, if I’m in a good mood, I might just let you stop before we work on her face!”
When Was? (Book 2): Who Are You Acquainted With? Page 17