“Run you idiot!”
I hear him yelling...I do. I can see the men bearing down on us too, but I don’t move. It’s happening. The blood starts pounding through my veins, the buzzing starts in my ears and I’m taken over by a dead calm. There’s anger and hatred like before but those feelings lay simmering beneath the overlying calm. I pull the shooter I had taken from hat head from my back and focus on my first target.
Deliberately I zone in, as if the iron shooter is just an extension...a part of me. With no hesitation I fire, and he falls from his horse immediately. I do it again...and again, each shot finding its target true. I feel no guilt, no remorse...just this calm. I don’t know when they start returning fire but it galvanizes Tater and Jax out of their shocked stupor and into action. The sound of shooter fire is all around me but it’s no more bothersome to me then a maskeeto buzzing...my focus is intense....concentrated. Indifferently, I watch a brown robed rider approach Jax from behind, watch him lift his shooter and aim. I see all this but it’s like I ain’t seeing it with my own eyes...it’s like I’m watching from off to the side. Steadily, I aim my own barrel and fire a hole into the middle of the rider’s forehead. I witness the bloody debris bloom out but I feel no repulsion….no disgust at my actions. It’s like I am encased in some deep, freezing cold that not even this horror can penetrate. The rider falls from his horse, but not before his shooter explodes. Instinctively I push Jax out of harm’s way as the slug sucker punches me in the gut.
The force of the slugs impact is enough to send me stumbling back a couple of steps... but funny enough...I don’t feel no pain. My hand explores the wound at my stomach before I lift it in front of my face. I can see that it’s covered in blood. My blood. I cover the wound again as if doing so will stop the bleeding. I raise my head then and look around....there’s so many of them, I think. So many riders of death. Surrounding us, boxing us in. We’re going to die. I know that. Right here, right now. Me, Finn, Tater, Jax....all dead and there’s nuthin I can do. We’re all going to die, just like gra’da and Molly and everybody else at the hands of these same madmen.
My calm finally evaporates and the anger begins to take over. I feel it come bubbling to the surface like a tapped well and explode into every fiber of my being. It’s so big I cain’t contain it... it overwhelms me, like my whole body is filled with fire! I lift my eyes to the darkening sky, open my mouth and scream just to release it before it consumes me. A wall of dust and earth starts to rise up before my eyes, forming between me and the Army, blinding me to them. A sand storm! I think frantically. Really? As if the Army wasn’t threat enough now we are going to have the very breath stripped from our bodies by the suffocating sands of a dirt devil? I search for the others, to warn them. ...to tell them to run, but I cain’t see them no more. I cain’t see nobody, I’m all alone now. Dying and alone, I think, as I fall to my knees, the wall of sand closing in on me. The last thought in my muddled brain as my life’s blood seeps through my fingers...least I didn’t get hit in the head again.
Gray Valley
The tall green stalks ripple and sway in the cool morning breeze. There is so much corn....as far as the eye can see. I ain’t ever seen the fields so full! It’s like the stories of the old folk have come to be....right in front of me! I stand for a bit just admiring the waves of corn, wishing Ben were here to see it. He never would have thought it possible. Deep down I think he truly believed the old folks had lied to us with their settlers stories. That their stories about fields of crops had been shite. But here they were...spread out before me, plain as day.
I notice a shadowy figure, standing in the middle of the field. I ain’t noticed him before. I squint a bit into the sun but his back is to me...I cain’t quite tell who it is. I start moving closer. I don’t know why but I feel this great sense of urgency to find out who it is. I don’t get far however, when that familiar whistling reaches my ears and I stop in my tracks, frozen in disbelief. Gra’da?
He is standing in the middle of the waist high crops, whistling as he picks the golden harvest, his battered old hat pushed back on his gray head. How is this even possible? I think. Is this even real? The sunshine warming the top of my head and the breeze blowing on my face feels real, sure enough. He turns then and sees me and that familiar smile lights up his face.
“Tara girl!”
“Gra’da!” I run to him not giving a care for how it was possible. It just was. I run through the corn, ignoring the stalks slapping at my face, straight into his strong arms and he lifts me up high just like when I was a little girl. I hug him real tight....bury my face in his worn tunic. He smells of earth and root wad and....home. I was home.
“I thought I had lost you gra’da, for good.”
I’m bawling like a baby... my tears soaking his shirt but I cain’t help it.
He chuckles quietly and I can feel it rumbling in his chest.
“Don’t be foolish girlie...I’m with you always,” he says and I look up into his wrinkled face.
“But you were dead gra’da....those men they killed you. All of you were gone. Molly, Shelly, Miz Emma, all dead.”
“Aye....that we are. But that don’t mean we ain’t with you girl. Look around.”
I do as he says and I realize beyond the field lays Rivercross....but it ain’t the Rivercross I remember. The shanties were all gone, replaced by new and sturdy looking wood cabins. The ground wasn’t no dusty hard packed soil neither, but green grass sprouting everywhere. And flowers...so many flowers, every color you could imagine. And there were people...everywhere. Molly, Shelly, Thomas...everybody. They were all there. I stare, unbelieving, as Lou looks up from his still and waves at me.
“Am I dreaming?” I say in disbelief and gra’da chuckles again.
“Maybe you is, maybe you ain’t,” he says, his eyes twinkling like they always did when he was teasing me.
“It’s so beautiful. What happened here?” I say, in wonder.
“Nuthin...and everything,” Gra’da answers, confusing me even more so. “This is your home Tara ...it’s how your heart sees it...beautiful, whole, perfect. It’s as it was meant to be.”
Suddenly I know he is right. This is how the world was meant to be, how it had been...alive, green, plentiful. It wasn’t supposed to be the dusty dried out barren land that we knew it as. The beauty of the land, the fields, of seeing everybody, it’s so overwhelming I just wanna cry again. But then that nagging, bitter thought surfaces and my smile slowly fades away.
“Gra’da...did you all die ‘cause of me? Was I the reason the evil came to Rivercross?” I say, needing to know yet fearing the answer.
He chuckles quietly again and squeezes my shoulders.
“Is that what you think child?” He shakes his head at me. “Evil came to Rivercross ‘cause, well...that’s what evil does. It spreads like a dark plague and don’t give a care for nuthin or nobody that stands in its way. It would have found Rivercross sooner or later. You couldn’t have stopped what happened no more than I could have stopped you from growing up…and trust me I tried.”
I cain’t help the intense rush of relief that flows over me. It wasn’t my fault. Gra’da said it wasn’t my fault...and he would never lie to me about this...would he?
“But things have been...happening to me gra’da,” I say, still not quite believing my innocence. “People are calling me names...saying I’m supposed to be this thing called a new blood. New bloods...they draw evil...that’s what Jax believes. If it’s true and I am this thing...”
“What will be, will be Tara,” he says cutting off my words. “Everything has a destiny...whether it be a wild hog, or a sand biter...or you. And your destiny my girl...it’s a wondrous one indeed. New blood or not you are meant to do great things.”
I ain’t ever known gra’da to speak in riddles before. What exactly is he trying to say? Is he saying I ain’t a new blood after all? I close my eyes, just for an instant, trying to make sense of his words. The cool morning breeze that felt s
o good on my face earlier changes, just like that, to a hot scorching heat and I open my eyes again, wishing I hadn’t done so. Everything I had just witnessed was gone! Everything, burnt away, nuthin left but charred remains. No corn field, no flowers, no gra’da, only black smoldering ruins.
“Gra’da!” I scream, frantically searching the blackened landscape. I just got him back...I cain’t lose him again. There’s so much more I need to say to him! To ask him! It ain’t fair!
“Tara...” the voice that answers me ain’t gra’da but it’s just as familiar. He is standing at the other end of the burnt field almost glowing against the blackness of the scorched background.
“Ben!” I feel such relief, such intense happiness at seeing him my heart almost explodes at the sheer joy.
“Ben....everything is burnt....gone!” I say.
“I know Tar Tar....but you can fix it.”
“I don’t know how!” I say as I try to walk to him. But with each step I take he gets further away.
“Ben! Wait!” My voice is frantic.
“Found a good patch of berries by the old swimming hole...” his voice is getting further away. He is fading away. “Ma was real pleased....”
“Ben!” I yell again but I cain’t run after him ‘cause now there’s hands holding me back...rooting me to the spot. “Ben, come back!” I struggle but the hands, they won’t let me go. I cain’t shake them off, no matter how hard I try.
“Let me go!’ I try kicking, struggling but they just seem to hold me tighter.
“Tara! It’s okay! Stop...fighting!”
The familiar voice reaches my consciousness at some level and snaps me awake. My eyes open to faces looming above me. They swim in and out of focus but I know Finn is there...and Jax....and another face, one I don’t recognize. It’s this face I focus on ‘cause the blue eyes that seem so familiar to me ain’t filled with the disgust I’m used to seeing in them, but compassion.
“It’s okay dear girl...you are safe.” Her voice is soothing and calm and I know she is speaking the truth. I stop struggling and the hands loosen their grip. I had been dreaming, I think. Gra’da and Ben, they weren’t real...it was all a dream. I find myself bereft at the realization that I ain’t in Rivercross at all but laying in a bed....and that my gut feels like it has been ripped open by a devil cat. I was shot! I remember that. Tentatively I reach down and feel the cloth bandage wrapped around me.
The blue eyed lady smiles at me then and moves my hand away.
“You are going to be fine...you just need to rest.”
“Yeah that’s great she’s gonna be fine and all but I think she broke my nose.” Jax’s voice is strangely muffled and I look over at him. He’s holding his nose and there’s blood dripping down his arm. Had he been shot too?
“What...” My voice is all choky and I clear my throat. “What happened to you?”
“You punched me is what you crazy freak! All I was doing was trying to hold you down so you wouldn’t tear open your wound and you sucker punched me in the nose!” he says angrily.
“Well I guess you should count yourself lucky I didn’t punch any lower,” I mutter back and Finn’s bark of laughter at this is tinged with relief.
“Hey Finn,” I say, eying him as he hovers anxiously in the background. He moves around the still irritable Jax to get to me and he takes my outstretched hand. It was good to see him.
“You okay?”
He nods and settles himself beside me on the canvas mattress. He sniffs and wipes his hand cross his nose.
“You almost died,” he says, accusingly.
His words scare me some but I don’t show it. Instead I poke him gently in the chest.
“Now what did Tater tell you about me while we was in the raiders cage?”
“That you was too thick skulled to die.”
“Aye, and for once he was right,” I say and give his hand a little squeeze. He gives me his gap toothed smile and squeezes back. Totally awake now, my dreams fading quickly, I look round the little room we are in, take in my surroundings. It weren’t no shanty that’s for certain. Besides the bed I was laying in there was a tall wooden chest in the corner painted with all sorts of drawings of flowers, a window covered with real painted shutters, and... dolls in every corner. Peg dolls just like the ones gra’da used to make me when I was a young’un, carved wooden dolls and other sorts I don’t recognize...but they were plentiful.
“What is this place?” I say in awe. It was so pretty looking...and clean. You could smell the freshness. I almost feel guilty about my stinky carcass laying in the fresh bed....almost. Jax is still busy acting all wounded with his nose and the blue eyed lady is doing her best to look at it but he ain’t giving her an easy time, so it’s up to Finn to answer me.
“This is Gray Valley. Jax brought us here. This is his cabin and that’s his ma.”
His ma. No wonder those blue eyes had seemed so familiar, she had passed them on to her boy. But she seemed nice, kind, caring even. How was Jax any son of hers?
“How did we get here? The Army....” I trail off remembering my last thoughts. Of how we were all going to die. We had been surrounded, by the Army and a dust storm, with no way out. I was gut shot....but yet here we were, here I was, alive. For the first time since I had met him Finn regards me with a look akin almost to fear. Is he scared of me? Shizen! What happened for him to look at me like that? That look on his face, it hurts me more than any shooter wound could ever do.
“Finn?” I say gently, “What happened?”
“Was a freak dust storm.” Jax interrupts, pushing his ma aside and striding over to Finn. He grips the boys shoulder and nods to the boy. “Right Finn? The gods sure were watching over us....come out of nowhere and gave us perfect cover to escape.”
“Aye,” Finn agrees but he don’t look at me, he’s looking at the floor. “We got away and rode for four days to get here.”
Four days! I don’t remember riding for four days! I don’t remember nuthin.
“Tater?” I say but Jax nods.
“He’s fine and that mule of his as well. Even that she devil belonging to Finn here is okay though she’s given a few of the villagers a scare or two.”
We all made it? How is that possible?
“How...” I begin but Jax cuts me off.
“Ma maybe you can go let Tater know of Tara’s recovery. I’m sure between the pints of ale he’s been downing there is a real concern for her well being there somewhere.”
Her eyes are questioning but all she says is “Of course dear.” And leaves us, sending me a reassuring smile. Jax waits for her to be out of earshot before he turns back to me.
“Look I know you’re full of questions but maybe now isn’t the right time...”
“How did we escape Jax?” I demand and my tone leaves no room for argument. I need to know what happened. They fall silent, both him and Finn and they exchange a look. That look irritates me more so then their silence ‘cause it says to me they share a bond...a secret. Jax has no right to have a bond with Finn! No right!
“Tell me!” I say. I know I sound desperate but that’s how I’m feeling. Something ain’t right!
It’s Finn who speaks. “You don’t remember nuthin Tara?”
I shake my head. “I....I recall being surrounded, and I was shot...then that wall of sand...” Suddenly a memory of a brown robed rider with a red gaping wound in his head pops into my brain and I gasp.
“Oh gods! I shot some of ‘em! I killed ‘em!”
I try to sit up, the memory of what I had done so horrifying that I want to get away from it.
“Hey, hey!” Jax pushes me back down on the bed, none too gently. “Yeah you killed some of those bastards...so what? Would you rather they have killed Tater, or Finn...or me? And they would have. They would have killed all of us but you....you were what they wanted. You saved us Tara....all of us.”
It must have been a hard admission for him, being saved by a new blood, ‘cause he don’t look too
happy about it. His blue eyes are like ice chips and he runs an irritated hand through his spikey hair. Not much of a thank you but I figure it’s about all I’m gonna get out of him.
“But we were surrounded....” I still don’t understand. “How did I save any of you?”
I look at Finn still sitting beside me. He don’t want to meet my eyes but I force his chin up.
“Finn tell me...and speak the truth,” I say.
He looks to Jax first who gives him a slight nod as if giving him permission. Permission for what, I think.
Finns voice is hesitant....scared. “It ain’t like nuthin I ever seen before. There we were surrounded...the army was everywhere. You were shot Tara...I could see all the blood.... and I was so scared! I thought for sure we were all done for. But then you....you started yelling. It weren’t no words I could understand but something happened. It was like... hells I don’t know! It was like the land itself was being summoned by you....controlled almost. It rose up ...like a dust devil only bigger. Much bigger! We were in the middle of it...it didn’t touch us at all but the Army... when it cleared they were just....gone! There weren’t nuthin....no bodies, no horses....just gone.”
He stops talking but his eyes frantically search my face for an explanation, one I cain’t give him. How was that even possible? Surely Finn must be wrong about the whole thing. He had been scared, terrified...he must have imagined the whole thing. But then I look at Jax and I see the confirmation in his eyes. It was true...all of it. A coldness starts to move over me and my whole insides feel numb. It’s like my brain cain’t process what Finn has just told me and I stare at him in disbelief. That surely wasn’t something no normal person should have been able to do, raise a dust storm! Jax was right! I was a freak! A mutation! Horrified and overwhelmed at what I have just heard I try to sink further into the soft bed.
“I wanna be alone,” I say dully, turning my head from both pairs of searching eyes. I just want to slip back to unconsciousness...to see Gra’da and Ben again. To be back in Rivercross where things made sense and I was normal.
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