After and Again

by McLellan, Michael

  “Kill ‘em, Frank!” said the man behind him, shoving Olsen aside and moving toward Zack. Max was on the man before he had taken three steps, latching onto his thigh and pulling him to the ground. Olsen lifted the machete that he was carrying, “I couldn’t burn the Martin house Zack,” he said, and started forward. Zack pulled the six-shooter from his waistband and shot Frank Olsen nearly point blank in the chest before he had a chance to realize that a split second before he had pulled the trigger, Frank Olsen had lowered the machete.

  He stuck the pistol back in his pants, grabbed the shotgun from where it leaned against the stable and swung it at the other man’s head, cracking his skull and ceasing his struggle with the wolf.

  Zack leaned over, picked up the machete, and turned back to the stable doors just as a familiar voice spoke from behind him. “I killed your girl hero.…after we….well, you know. But not to worry son, you can join her in hell.” Trask aimed the Winchester and pulled the trigger. Click, nothing, he quickly levered the rifle and was re-aiming when a shot hit the dirt right next to him. He turned to see Tal Miller taking aim at him from the roof; then a deafening roar from behind him and there was white-hot pain as the pellets from the shotgun peppered his body. Desmond Trask turned and ran down the alley between the stable and the building where Tal Miller was shooting at him from. Tal prepared to take another shot when an arrow whizzed past his head, he turned to see the archer nocking another arrow. Tal took aim and shot the man in the chest.

  Ben Grayson and two others came around to the back side of the building, dousing it with lamp oil and lighting it as they went. He rounded the corner just in time to see Trask turn and run; “You, finish torching this place,” Grayson said to one of the new men whose name he couldn’t remember. “Collins, put an arrow in that son of a bitch on the roof if you can,” he said to another while un-slinging his crossbow and stepping forward, carefully staying out of the sight line of the man on the roof. As close as he could get without risking getting shot, he took aim at Zack, who had worked the thick steel machete under the boards nailed to the door jambs and was prying them off. There was a shot; and his eyes wandered for the briefest moment to his right, where Collins was falling to the ground. Eyes back forward and a wolf filled his vision, he fired on reflex; the wolf yelped, collapsing in the dirt and trying drag itself forward with its front legs. He reached into his quiver for another arrow—Trask’s boy was still unaware of his presence—and set it, when something fell on him from above.

  Tal turned in time to see Max fall, and saw the man with the crossbow nearly directly under him. Tal jumped from the roof onto the man feeling his ankle snap when he landed. He grappled with him fiercely; knowing that if the man was able to get to his feet, all would be lost. Tal, a veteran of more fights than he could count used the experience to his advantage and managed to get on top of the man, wrapping his hands around his throat. Suddenly there was pain in his side and he had to reach a hand down to stay the knife that the man was trying to stick in his belly. His opponent took advantage and shoved Tal—who was now off-balance—and wriggled free. The man was trying to gain his feet when Max clamped down on his face. He screamed in pain and battered at the wolf. Tal picked up the man’s dropped knife and dragged himself close enough to bury it in his chest.

  The doors flew open before Zack even had the last board out, and he was thrown aside by the out-swing, his nose bloodied. Smoke billowed from the building and a crush of people came pouring out, coughing and retching. He recovered himself and thought of Grace, but there were so many people coming out that he couldn’t get past them to get inside. After what seemed like an eternity the flood of people slackened enough to squeeze past. An old woman grabbed his arm and shouted, “You can’t go in there, you’ll die!” Zack pulled away and rushed into the smoke filled stable. He could see some bodies on the floor and knew that he couldn’t save all of the people and the horses, the front portion of the building was already an inferno, and the horses were in a panic. He ran back outside and screamed at the crowd “There are people in there that need help! Please!” he turned and ran back inside and grabbed the first person that he came to by the legs and started dragging him or her—he couldn’t tell which—across the dirt floor of the stable. He felt a hand on his arm and saw that it was the man who worked for Andy Gross at the inn. The man leaned down and took the legs from Zack, and Zack saw that there were others now in the barn helping. He ran to the stall that Grace was in and tried to sooth the frightened animal while he opened the stall. As soon as the stall was open Grace bolted out, and Zack was afraid that she would trample someone. The stable was now so thick with smoke that Zack was having trouble seeing, and every breath burned his lungs. He went for the next stall and screamed with all of his voice. “HORSES COMING!” and opened the stall. Drawing breath was getting harder and he was feeling lightheaded but continued from stall to stall, now feeling his way along the row. He began to feel like he was dreaming; he was sitting on his father’s lap on the front porch……

  Desmond Trask caught up with the wagon and hailed the driver to stop. He dismounted and walked to the head of the wagon, looked at the driver and said, “Key.” The driver handed it over and Trask walked to the back of the now full wagon and unlocked the cage. “Out,” he said looking at Emily with an expression that dared her to disobey. The other women looked fearfully at Trask and pityingly at Emily, who got up without a word and made her way to the open door. Trask took her roughly by the arm and yanked her out of the wagon. “So your little beau is dead huh?” he said, letting go and watching her fall onto the road. “Well don’t worry, he won’t be bothering us anymore, I’ll tell you, I never heard anyone scream like—”

  “You’re LYING!” Emily screamed, getting up and running at Trask, fists flying. He gave her a backhanded slap and she flew back to the ground, skinning her arms. He reached down and dragged her to her feet. “C’mon honey, were going home,” he said, pulling the dazed girl to his horse. “Get this wagon to The Crack, and get it there fast,” he told the driver. Trask set Emily in front of him on the horse and then disappeared in a cloud of dust.

  Zack awoke and stared up into the faces of Tal Miller and Andy Gross. He was lying on the pallet in the room that he and Tal had rented at the inn. He was confused for a moment as to the events that led him to being there but things became clear after a few moments. His throat burned like fire. “Do you have some water?” he asked, pushing himself up to a sitting position.

  “Right here,” Andy said, taking a real glass from the bureau and handing it to Zack.

  “We thought you were finished there for a minute,” Tal said, reaching over from his chair and putting a hand on Zack’s shoulder.

  “You were out for three hours,” Andy added.

  “What happened to your leg, Tal?” Zack asked, seeing how Tal was sitting with his left leg fully extended and his calf and ankle completely wrapped up.

  “Oh, one ‘a them bastards was trying to shoot ya with a crossbow so I jumped off the roof on ‘em and broke my ankle. Gettin old, brittle bones ya know. It’s okay, local doc here set in about ten minutes….an’ I was lucky to get that, he’s a busy man this morning.”

  “Where’s Max?” Zack asked, looking around the small room. The other two men shared a glance then Tal answered,

  “He’s right there behind ya, Zack, but he’s hurt a bit….doc says he’ll probably be okay though.” Zack twisted around and saw that Max was lying on a wool blanket not two feet away, with his whole backside wrapped in bandages.

  “Oh, hey boy,” he said softly and reached over to stroke the wolf’s head. Max opened his eyes and wagged his tail. “What happened to him?” he asked, not looking away from Max.

  “The man with the crossbow shot ‘im in the hip, just before he tried to shoot you. When you were trying to open the stable doors ya see. We took care of him though, ay Max?” Tal said, looking fondly at the wolf.

  “It’s good to see that you are all right,” An
dy Gross said, “but I have a lot to do, there are a lot of folks that need attending to, and a lot to be done….Zack, thank you for saving my life, and the lives of everyone else.”

  With that, Andy Gross turned and left the room.

  “I have to go.” Zack said, standing up. “Tal, will you watch out for Max?”

  “Ha ha, maybe you should have ‘im watch out for me,” Tal said with a smile that quickly faded into seriousness. “Of course I will.”

  “I missed Trask, after you hit him with the shotgun I shot at him again an’ missed. I’m no good with that thing, I think I hit half of what I shot at, anyway, he got away again, I’m sorry, Zack.”

  “You don’t have anything to say you’re sorry for, Tal, you saved my life, and maybe Max’s too. You stay here and rest up, I’ll see you back at Payne’s Station when I can,” Zack walked over to the chair, leaned down, and embraced Tal Miller.

  “Good luck, Zack,” Tal whispered in his ear, weeping openly. “I love ya like my own family.”

  “I love you too, Tal, you take care,” Zack stood and walked over to Max and crouched down in front of the wounded animal. He wrapped his arms around him and buried his face in his fur. I’ll see you soon big fella.”

  Max licked Zack’s face and made clean streaks in the soot there.

  Zack walked downstairs with the rifle in his hand, wishing that he hadn’t left the scabbard Toby Martin had given him at the stable with the saddle. He assumed that both the scabbard and the saddle were so much ash now. Tal had even tried to talk him into taking the shotgun but Zack had refused.

  He entered the common room; every single table was full, and there were even people sitting against the walls, he even saw quite a few boys his age. Apparently the men hadn’t been taking them or these had managed to hide. There was a great deal of commotion; women and children crying mostly, but some animated conversation, and even some arguing. The noise level dropped off easily by half when Zack walked in. He started for the front door, thinking about Grace, and whether or not he would be able to find her, when someone started clapping. Soon others joined in, and before long most of the room was applauding the young man who saved their lives.

  Zack felt awkward and smiled, but kept moving. He really didn’t want to get delayed with these people. He had almost made the door when Buck Peterson, the stableman, approached him.

  “Some of us would like to come with ya, Zack….that is we assume that yer going after yer girl?”

  “Yes, I am,” Zack said, waiting for more.

  “My wife got took, and some other men’s wives, and kids. Tal said that there’s a good chance that they’re all together, along with your girl….”

  “Emily,” Zack said.

  “Right, Emily,” Buck said, sounding embarrassed.

  “Have you seen my horse? And do you and the others have horses?”

  “Oh yes, we have yer horse, and plenty of others as well. We put ‘em all in the corral behind the stable once it burned out and we could collect ‘em. Renny Falwell rode out to his ranch and brought out some more too. And hey, that darn fool Ernest Platt….the one that almost got bit by yer wolf? Ran his big butt into the stable after Andy Gross an’ his man Fredrick pulled you out an’ grabbed up your saddle and rifle scabbard. He was in the stable with me before I closed up last night admirin’ that scabbard an’ told me how he almost got himself chewed up fer lookin at it…..here I am talking too much, well anyway, will you have us?” He looked at Zack hopefully.

  “Sure,” Zack said, “but we have to go.”

  20

  Trask had stopped by a lake about three hours after leaving the wagon. He lifted Emily from the horse, set her down and pulled out his long knife. Emily steeled herself against what was to come, all hope lost. Trask must have seen something in her expression because he laughed heartily. “No such luck for you, now go gather up some dry branches; small ones mind you.”

  He lit a small fire and stuck the long knife in it. After a few minutes he took it out, walked over to the lake and cleaned off the soot. He walked over to where Emily was and stripped all the way down to his undershorts. Emily looked wary again and he handed her the knife. “Don’t you be getting any ideas, you might be able to stick me once, but once is all that you would get.” You’re going to dig out all of these pellets….carefully.”

  He sat down and gave her a look that said “any time now,” she moved over next to him and had to fight off her revulsion to touching his skin.

  “I don’t know why you want me to bother, your face is so infected that you’re just going to die anyway.”

  Trask’s face darkened slightly but he simply said, “Proceed.”

  Grace came running when Zack called, obviously glad to see him, and she seemed okay despite inhaling all of the smoke. He was surprised at how many men were going with him; he counted fifteen preparing horses, and most were carrying bows, some had clubs.

  They walked the horses to the road along with a string of extras and Zack got a good look at the whole town. It was not as bad as Payne’s Station, but it was close. There were still quite a few buildings on the east side of the road that were not burned, but it would still take a long time and a lot of work to rebuild Auburn.

  They overtook the wagon only two hours later. It was in the middle of the road with a broken wheel, it appeared that they were trying to repair it before they realized that the approaching riders were not theirs. The men had all abandoned the wagon before Zack and the others reached it, and Zack somehow knew, before he even reigned in Grace at the front of the wagon, that Emily was not among the women in the cage.

  Zack dismounted hopeful although his heart had told him exactly what he would find. He asked only one question of the women in the cage. Had Emily been there? The reply had been yes, and it was of course Trask who had taken her.

  The key was located on a hook by where the driver sat and he tossed it to Buck. “I guess I’ll be going,” Zack said. Buck kicked at the dirt a little, and the other men were all looking elsewhere; in the cage, at their feet, the horizon.

  “We’re all real grateful to you, Zack.” Buck said, cutting a horse out of the string and trying to hand the reigns to Zack. “But we all got families to tend to, and a town to rebuild….we’re awful grateful….”

  “Thanks, but I don’t want your horse, Buck.” Zack said, mounting Grace. “Good luck all of you.” Zack urged the mare on.

  The landscape was a great deal different than anywhere around Payne’s Station. It was all steep hills dropping to small valleys, well treed with huge oaks, sycamores and pines. Not enough that Zack would call it a forest, but there was a lot more growing here than the foothills around his home. He had already crossed two rivers—or two branches of the same one—over identical wooden bridges since leaving Auburn the previous day.

  Zack was lonely; lonely to his very soul. He had always liked being alone and was truly comfortable with his own company, but this was not the same. His mom was lost somewhere that he couldn’t follow, Emily was in the hands of the worst sort of madman imaginable, the Martins, Tal….Max. He wondered if it would’ve been better to go with Holly Sanderson and the Goodmans to the time-rip. It was starting to look like they would reach it before he caught up with Emily.

  He was hungry. In his haste to leave he hadn’t thought to ask Andy Gross for something to take with him. It was just after noon and he hadn’t eaten anything since dinner at the inn, the night before last—unless he counted the chewing gum that he had chewed on for awhile. Thankfully he had passed plenty of water on the way. His canteen had been near empty as well.

  He was riding at a trot, no longer believing that he was going to catch Trask. He had to go to The Crack; wherever and whatever The Crack was. That was where Trask was taking Emily. Why, he didn’t know, but he intended to find out.

  He spotted the crossroads before he saw the sign. There was a pass in the hills to the right and another on the left. There was a carved wooden sign on the side th
at veered right; it read,

  HERALD’S FORD

  40 mi.

  Zack halted Grace and jumped off. He walked up to the very place where the two roads made a V, fell to his knees, and wept. All of his loneliness, and pain, and loss, came pouring out right there in the pale brown dust of the road. He couldn’t go on, it was too much. He let himself fall face first in the dirt.

  He heard his father speak from behind him. “I raised a weakling, is that it? Look at you, Zack, lying in the dirt weeping like a day old babe. So you’re just going to leave Emily? You’re going to forget about your mom, and your friends because you can’t remember how to track a deer? Piss on you, I taught you better than that.”

  “BUT YOU LEFT ME!” Zack screamed, turning around. But there was of course, no one there.

  Zack McQueen stood up and brushed the dust from his shirt and trousers. He looked right toward Herald’s Ford; the road was well traveled, but probably not in the last several days. He looked left; not as well traveled, weeds were growing here and there in the middle of it, but quite a few horses had passed on it, some weeds were smashed and the tracks were still nice and deep. Zack mounted Grace and started up the left fork in the road.

  Zack spitted what was left of the rabbit on an oak branch and positioned it above the fire. It had been two days since the crossroads and he’d been able to find game pretty easily. He had shot a small turkey the previous night and was a bit taken aback to see how much of it the rifle shot had destroyed. The same thing had happened with the rabbit, but he really didn’t want to take anything larger than that. He’d seen several deer, and even a pig with some young, but he was only one and didn’t want to kill just to waste most of it.

  He had practiced with both the rifle and the pistol the last two nights before dinner and was getting a little better with both, especially the rifle. He could hit eight out of ten targets now. The pistol was proving a bit more difficult, mostly he thought because the six-shooter was so heavy.