by E A Lake
"I want Morgan and Charolette down off their horses and I want them to walk over behind my wives," he said softly yet firmly.
"I want to see my friends, my sister," I replied, staring harshly at him. "And I want to see them out front right now. I want to make sure they're alright."
Shaklin nodded and whistled, turning to motion several men to bring them forward. That's when my stomach fell.
CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED TWENTY-FOUR
I recognized one of the three men who brought Belinda, Avellyn and Chloe forward. It was Jack Preacher. I also noticed his smirk as well as his hands resting on Avellyn's shaking shoulders. Another man led Chloe forward, holding the end of a chain that was wrapped around her wrists and waist. How symbolic of my old friend.
The third man held a thick, braided rope, one that was tightened around my otherwise unharmed sister's neck. I wasn't sure if she was going to see the next day's sunrise after our meeting ended, but I was angry enough to know I was going to die in the next few minutes trying to save her life.
"I believe you know my old buddy Jack," Tony said casually. "For all the help he's been in pointing out the rat in my house, I've decided to give him what he wants, at only half our originally agreed-upon price.
"The man securing Belinda is Winston Cutler. I'm happy he's sober today. Wouldn't want his vision blurred as he chooses between Belinda and Charolette."
"Is that her?" Cutler slurred, pointing at Charolette. So much for being sober. "She might just do, if I got to choose. Though maybe you'd be a good sport, Mr. Shaklin, and let me have both of them. After all, I have waited quite a while for the delivery."
Tony shrugged and shot me a sad look. "What do you think, Quinn? Maybe it would be nice to keep Belinda and Charolette together. They could keep each other company when they weren't otherwise occupied."
I refused to take the bait. Instead, I glanced at Morgan. For the foul situation before us, she looked awfully calm and collected.
"That's Jimmy Yelk," she whispered. "The one who's holding Chloe. If you get a chance, kill him."
"Aw, you spoiled my fun, Morgan," Shaklin laughed. "I wanted to be the one to introduce Quinn to Jimmy and his soon-to-be bride. I figured since he did such a good job of taking them off your hands, he deserved a prize. Now, she hasn't had her wedding night yet; that's tonight's fun and games...for Jimmy at least."
"And if we stop you first?" I asked with nothing to back my words up. "What if you just decide this is a bad idea and have a change of heart? What then?"
He grinned, first at Carla and then at me. "Here's what's gonna happen: Morgan and Charolette are going to get off their damn horses and walk over here. Chloe Anne Willobea is staying here as our new vet and Jimmy's wife. Avellyn Rose Willobea is going with Preacher to Terre Haute. Bet you didn't know I was on such personal terms with your old friends, did you Quinn?"
Tony the schmoozer at his best. Like I cared.
"Now, after out little meeting here," he continued, "I'm going to send a whole shitload of people to Pimento to collect the rest of the girls, my missing property. And you're not going to be able to stop me."
"What about my daughter?" my mother said, near hysterics. I knew all of it was too much for her, but she was the one who insisted on coming along.
Shaklin tilted his head to the right, staring down at my sister, now in tears like the other two.
"She wronged me, Mrs. Reynolds. She wronged me and my family. Belinda Elizabeth Shaklin has to pay for that betrayal. It's really that simple." Shaklin nodded at Ed. "An eye for an eye, right Reverend?"
Tony had always had a flair for the dramatic at important meetings in our past lives. He proved himself to still be up to the task. He knew when he had the high ground and made sure everyone else knew just how stacked the situation was in his favor.
"What you're doing," Ed bolstered, "has nothing to do with the Bible. You're just evil and evil will not prevail today."
Shaklin shrugged and glance beside me. "Morgan, get off that damned horse right now and bring Charolette over here with you. If you want any of these people who you might care about to live, do it now."
Morgan let out a breath through gritted teeth and stared at me. Her eyes were filled with fire and life, and I thought for a moment she was going to dismount. But when she slowly shook her head, I knew we'd have to fight to stay alive...if that was even possible.
"I think that's a no, Tony," I replied, focusing on him again.
He opened his mouth to either answer or laugh, but I was no longer focused on him. No, both Wife One and Wife Two gasped at the same time and Carla's eyes narrowed as her lips tightened. Something beside me drew their attention.
When I turned, I too was shocked by what I saw.
CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED TWENTY-FIVE
"No one," Morgan said sternly, "is going anywhere."
It wasn't her words that made my mouth drop open. It was the large, silver-plated pistol she had drawn from her saddle bag that was pointed at Charolette's head that caused my reaction.
"I'm going to shoot her first," Morgan continued resolutely. Shit, she was serious. Her hand wasn't shaking in the slightest. "And then I'm going to shoot myself. So, Winston Cutler ain't getting his toy and I'm going to deprive you and Carla the enjoyment of whipping the skin off my body."
"Morgan, what the hell are you doing?" I whisper-shouted. "Where'd you get that gun?"
"I'm serious, Quinn; I'll do it if he doesn't let the others go."
I didn't doubt she was serious. After all, she was as stubborn as the day was long. But this was extreme, even for her.
"That won't solve anything, Morgan," Shaklin called out in a semi-sympathetic tone. "Belinda will take Charolette's place. They both lose that way. As far as you, I promise we're not gonna hurt you."
"Speak for yourself," Carla muttered. That made Tony mad.
"Shut up, Carla! I'm in charge here."
She bit her tongue but still looked super pissed.
"I always knew you were the resourceful one," Tony continued. "You're the only one, Morgan, who seems to have brought a gun today. You were the only one with enough foresight to have some sort of plan. We still need you on the farm; you're a valuable asset to us, to me."
"Shut up!" she shrieked, clicking the hammer back. "We're going to do as I say, otherwise this blood will be on your hands."
Tony shook his head disappointedly. "Do whatever you gotta do then. Just know this: Your husband will be joining you in short order. He's gotta pay for what he did."
For a few tense seconds, I willed Morgan to lower the gun. Hell, Ed hadn't released his prayer partners yet. Though I doubted they would be of any help, other than slowing Shaklin down, it was worth a try.
I was surprised by how calm Charolette looked. Several times she smiled and nodded, as though urging her friend to do the deed. It dawned on me that this was their plan all along, even if I had shown up without one.
"Put the gun down, Morgan," a calm voice intervened. "There's no need for violence, not today."
Ed had dismounted his ride and stood between the heads of the two horses, holding his right arm upward.
"Give me the gun," he continued softly. "I love you too much to let you do this. Both of you. Can't you feel the love of this group? Can't you feel God's love all around you? It's there, it's real."
For the first time, Morgan began to shake slightly. Tears began to fill the bottoms of her eyes as she glanced at my father.
"I can't go back," she begged. "I can't let Charolette go back. I can't let this happen."
Ed smiled and reached further for the gun, now pointed more at Charolette's mid-section than her head.
"Nothing bad is going to happen today, my child. God will protect us; you know that. I will see to it as well."
"But we're unarmed," she cried. "We don't stand a chance." Her voice became choked with either tears or fear, perhaps both.
"We're fine," my father replied, finally taking the gun from her and to
ssing it into the ditch on his right. "Everything will be just fine."
I breathed a little easier but wasn't sure how long that would last. We were down to our last desperate move as Ed called his people forward.
"I thought she actually might do it," Shaklin roared, laughing at us. "My money was on her pulling the trigger."
"She doesn't have the guts," Carla spewed. "She wants to live, even if that means under my heel for the rest of her pathetic life."
A hundred plus people came forward and knelt on both knees, facing Shaklin and his crew. Most removed their hats, letting the light rain that had begun to fall collect on their greasy scalps. A low moan of prayers began and I looked back at Tony.
"Now you're gonna really piss me off," he said, inching his horse toward the praying folks. "I'm gonna have to ride around this bunch of clowns to come and take my property back. Talk about a slap in the face."
"You don't have to do this, Tony!" I shouted. "It's doesn't have to be like this." A number of people in his army raised their weapons as he moved closer to the edge of the people. Shit, it was gonna get ugly and I was out of options. "You don't have to do this!"
"But I do," he replied angrily. "And do you know why? Let me tell you why. I'm in charge down here. This is my place, my land, my crops, my family, my property. And when someone wrongs me, like you have Quinn, it's my job to restore the balance of power to me. I didn't want to do it like this; you forced me to."
He turned his horse to circle Ed's people. I glanced back at Morgan and Charolette. Both were holding their heads high, tears streaking their faces. Belinda, Chloe and Avellyn were sobbing. It was the end, I knew, and I needed to do something.
I moved my horse to cut Tony off. When their heads were almost touching, both animals stopped.
"Don't do this, Quinn," Tony stated sadly. "Don't try to fight me on my turf. I'll fill everyone here so full of holes that we'll have to dig extra graves for all the leftover body parts. Be sensible, reasonable. I win, you lose. Again. Take it like a man."
I thought about going for the gun in the ditch but knew I didn't have enough time. Instead, I held my ground.
"You're gonna have to kill me to get to them," I said firmly. "That's the only way."
"Once I move away from you, 10 men will shoot you," he replied, nodding a few times. "Is that what you really want?"
I drew a breath, perhaps my last. "So be it."
He shrugged and looked past me. I assumed he was staring at his prizes. But a confused look made me wonder what Morgan had held back for her last trick.
"What the hell is that?" Shaklin said softly.
I turned and found what had drawn his attention away. "What the hell is that?" I repeated.
CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED TWENTY-SIX
The scene would have been hard to explain if it hadn't been so unusual and just plain weird. All of Shaklin's people craned their necks to get a peek down the road behind us. Our people, almost in unison, turned slowly and gawked at what could only have been described as a mirage.
Coming down the road from the west was a carriage. No, that wasn't right. If I were honest about it, the vehicle had more of a two-wheel Amish buckboard, the kind most younger men drove around. But that wasn't right either.
It appeared that the driver and his two occupants were standing erect in whatever was drawing closer. And though I thought it to be made of wood at first, something was off in the color of the material.
When they were within 100 yards, I thought I made out one of the occupants. He was dressed in a black coat that flapped in the breeze and wore a crisp white shirt. His right hand held his hat in place, a black preacher's hat. At 50 yards I heard his twin, just in front of me, exclaim, "Thank God, it's Tim!"
But that wasn't why I was thanking Ed's God at that particular moment. No, I could now tell the color of the chariot with ease. It was purple!
When the makeshift chariot came to a stop beside Ed's horse, I noticed the man who had turned down my request for help was smiling broadly. And now here he was. But there were only three of them and I assumed Pastor Tim would be worthless in a fight.
"Reverend Edward," Karlos said as he dismounted his ride. "I am here!"
I wasn't sure about anyone else, but I was shocked by what the short man was wearing. On top, he had a purple turtleneck rolled up high. His jeans were equally as purple, as were his sneakers. The purple stocking cap was a nice touch, though I wondered if the long ornate cape, purple with gold trim, added anything to his appearance.
"King Karlos," Ed replied, hugging the new arrival tightly. They shared a kiss on the cheek and smiled graciously as they stared into the other's eyes. "I was hoping you would come."
"I have brought with me today my driver and personal bodyguard, Tito," he continued in his high-pitched tone. "And of course, I've brought your emissary back as well."
"Praise God!" Ed shouted.
"Yes, praise God!" the other called back. And then he approached me with open arms and a large grin.
"Sheriff Quinn Reynolds," he said, hugging me tightly. "We meet again. What a wonderful day this is for me, seeing two such powerful men back together again, father and son, fighting the forces of evil." He pushed away and smiled at me.
His steady stare made me uncomfortable. If he thought I was kissing him or anyone else, he was nuts...which he may have already been.
"Have I missed any of the fun yet?" he asked playfully.
I shook my head, nodding at Shaklin. "Nah, we were just getting to the fun part. Though, I have to admit, I'm a little worried you're alone."
He patted my arms, turning himself towards Shaklin. "Ah, you lack faith, Sheriff Quinn Reynolds. But I know you have it in you somewhere. Come, introduce me to your friend. Let us talk."
Okay, if that's what he wanted. But I hoped he realized Tony Shaklin was the enemy and not anyone's friend.
CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED TWENTY-SEVEN
"Who the hell is this freak?" Shaklin asked, dismounting his horse, motioning for Carla and several others to stay on theirs. As always, he was in charge.
"Allow me to introduce myself," Karlos said, bowing deeply at the waist. "I am King Karlos of Northern Terre Haute. And I am the humble servant of The Reverend Edward Reynolds." His right hand shot out towards Shaklin.
Tony glared at the hand like it might bite but reluctantly shook it. The chances of getting a hug were zero, but I didn't want to burst Karlos' happy-time bubble.
"Never heard of you," Shaklin groused. "King of what?"
Karlos raised his right index finger with a smile. "Yet I have heard of you, Tony Shaklin. We are not that unalike. We both provide for the safety and well-being of those who seek shelter on our lands. I, of course, am a benevolent person and love my people. In return, they love me as well.
"But you, Tony Shaklin, are different in that way from me. You enslave and force people to work for you. You do not love, as the Good Book tells us we must. Sadly, in return, not all of your people love you. That makes me heartbroken. A man with so much to offer so many, not doing God's work is truly a sin."
Tony looked past us. "One of your looney followers, Ed? I might have expected as much, dressed up like some kind of freak on Halloween."
"I wear purple," Karlos announced proudly, "because it is the color of royalty. My followers know it's me when I approach. And they praise and cheer my arrival. Can you say the same, Tony Shaklin?"
He shook his head and began to laugh. "They know it's me, but there's a difference between us, King Karlos. My people lower their faces and some even kneel when I come calling. And that's hundreds of people." He thrust a thumb over his shoulder. "And they're all right behind me, all ready to do battle to recover what's mine."
Karlos studied Shaklin's ranks with indifference. "They look like a fine crew, Tony Shaklin. But my people number many more than what you show as a force."
"Is that so, King? How many you got?"
Inching closer to Shaklin, I noticed Karlos grin. "Thous
ands," he whispered. "There are thousands who love and adore me, because I love and adore them as well. I lead them into battle today, willing to die for my friend Reverend Edward Reynolds. And that courage inspires them so that they would also die to protect me and my dear friend."
Shaklin shook with laughter. I guess he knew the punchline the rest of us were missing.
"And yet, you only brought two today," he replied, shaking his head. "It's just like a guy who brings a knife to a gun fight. You know who's gonna lose, each and every time, don't you?"
Karlos became serious. Gone was any smile are hint of happiness from his face. "Today, Tony Shaklin, you lose. I have brought a cannon to a gun fight; many cannons, so to say."
"I'd like to see those cannons, dear King." Shaklin had lost his sense of humor as well.
Karlos pointed north, to his left. "In just a few moments, you will see a thousand armed people coming through that field. Will that convince you, Tony Shaklin?"
Though they spoke to one another just above a whisper, everyone from both sides turned their heads to the north, awaiting Karlos' army. And we waited, and waited, and waited. Until…
CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED TWENTY-EIGHT
After what had to have been almost five minutes, Shaklin's smile returned. He laid a hand on one of Karlos' shoulders. "Don't try to bullshit a bullshitter. Your bluff was fun, it even had my stomach turning for a minute or two. But all I see out there are crows. And if they're coming, it's to pick at the bones of the dead. Your dead. The few of you at least."
King Karlos shrugged and smiled slightly. Removing his stocking cap for a second, he ran his hand through his long, thick, dark hair. "The Reverend Edward Reynolds has taught me many things, Tony Shaklin. First and foremost is faith. Faith in God and faith in others. Before I met him, I must admit I was not a faithful person. And I was mean as well.