Red Robin: Post-Apocalyptic America

by R. B. Tetro

  The deputy let go of her, howling and sinking down to his knees, holding his dis- figured hand while the blood shot out of it like a garden sprayer.

  “Enough of this!” Lucas shouted. Pulling his pistols, he covered the deputies. Jessie and Poet did the same. Quick as a click, Reverend was standing with a pistol in either hand, pointing them, dead-center at Virgil. For a moment, they all stood in a highly uncomfortably, Mexican stand-off.

  “We don’t want to kill you, and you obviously can’t kill us, so what say we pay for the water, and you leave my wife alone,” Poet offered.

  “No way- no how, Scar- face! That there, fine piece of ass is coming with me, and you and your friends can all get hung.”

  “Well, I guess that only leaves one question…” Reverend interjected.

  Virgil had been so enamored by Angel that he hadn’t noticed he was in the presence of a gun-fighting legend. Virgil had been born to Kendall Stone- who was born to Cain Stone, who had founded the infamous town of Dead Stone. He’d been born the owner of the town and everything in it with armed men at his beck and call since he could remember. He wasn’t used to being challenged, but he was too stubborn to back down. “What question is that… Bible man?”

  Reverend raised his eyebrows and chuckled. “The question is, Virgil… who’s gonna start the lead party?”

  Virgil flinched. Reverend was giving him the first move. He moved his hand a fraction of a centimeter, toward his gun. Reverend holstered his pistols, quick as a cat, and smiled in anticipation. For a moment, it was so quiet everyone could hear their own breathing. Then, Onyx started to howl, breaking the tension in the air, causing everyone to jerk and laugh. “Must be his death howl,” joked one of the deputies.

  Virgil didn’t look so sure. He was big and ugly, but he wasn’t stupid. Before he could comment, there were several howls from outside the building, then the entire store was filled with the furry death- dealers. He and the rest of the deputies looked at each nervously, while Reverend and the rest of his group smiled.

  “You come see me in my office in the morning,” Virgil mumbled, as he back-pedaled his way out the door, the deputies close on his heels.

  CHAPTER EIGHTY

  After Lucky had killed Slade he’d given the camper back to Lilly, Slade’s wife, along with enough gold to pay the lot fee for a year, and feed and clothe the kids for a year, and then some. Lilly had never forgotten what Lucky did for her. She’d cared for him and was broken-hearted to hear that he got himself decapitated by a boulder.

  For a while, everything was going pretty good for her and her kids. She had a new man now, a better man with a kinder disposition and a gentler heart. There had even been some tentative joking about marriage. , but that’s when her late husband’s big brother, Frank- one of the most feared outlaws in the territory- found out that his baby brother had gotten himself killed.

  Frank showed up at the campground right after Lucky and Juggernaut left to guide the fortress survivors to the Cavern of the Light. Now, the whole place was run by him and his fifty well-armed men and women. Since then, the campground had gone to ruin. Most everyone had already retreated to Over Watch, but Lilly’s new man was too sick to go yet, so she stayed with the man who’d stayed beside her.

  She was sneaking her way back from the store, when she saw Juggernaut and his dangerous-looking friends come into town. She decided to follow him and tell him how much Lucky had meant to her. (Although she would never tell him that she’d secretly been in love with him and that last night, she’d been willing to do anything to keep her children in the camper. Lucky would have none of it, though. Instead, he sent her away, after becoming her friend and making sure her and the children had what they needed, without ever cashing in on the obvious chemistry between them).

  Lilly followed them over to the dry-goods store and smiled. Juggernaut still looked the same… impossibly tall and built like a freight train, he looked like the killing machine that he was. She stepped back under the roof line to take advantage of the shade, lighting a cigarette while she watched and waited.

  A short time later, she saw Frank and several well- armed men approaching the store. She was about to run across the street and warn them but before she could take a step, more well-armed men came from around the back of the dry goods store and she realized they already had the place surrounded. Stepping back further into the shadows, Lilly put out her smoke and knelt down, unseen, behind some old crates. The sound of the dust-spattered wind howling between the buildings was all she could hear.

  Then the front door opened. Juggernaut came out first, followed by two other dangerous-looking men, each of them carrying supplies. They only made it half-way across the street when Frank’s voice stopped them in their tracks. “You have to be Juggernaut. Am I right? I mean… it’s true! You look just like that creepy guy in that movie, Thirteen Ghosts.”

  Juggernaut stood staring at the identical twin to the man Lucky had killed right before they’d left the camp ground. Daniel and Pops were both looking at him. He shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. Daniel tried to keep walking but, at least twenty men cocked their pieces. “You ain’t going anywhere…except for the jail. This man’s brother killed my brother, so I’ll be taking him into custody… along with his accomplices!” Frank shouted.

  Lilly watched Juggernaut and his friends being arrested. They’d thought they were safe in the campground, because Juggernaut was from there and he and his brother were well respected there. But since they’d been gone, the campground had changed. She slipped through the shadows along the far side of the street while she watched the three men get gagged and beaten and dragged down the street, over to the jail.

  After listening to them outside of their cell for a while she slipped off into the darkness.

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-ONE

  Reverend and Virgil sat staring at each other across Virgil’s desk. If Reverend was bothered by the four shaking deputies pointing their guns at the back of his head, Virgil couldn’t tell it. The fact that he wasn’t bothered… bothered Virgil.

  It was early. Reverend had come by himself, which also bothered Virgil. Virgil never did anything by himself, especially something dangerous.

  “I like your chess board,” Reverend noted.

  Virgil’s nervous, beady eyes flicked from Reverend, to the hand carved chess board and back to Reverend. “Thank you. It was my grandfathers. Do you play?”

  Reverend smiled. “Been a while since I seen a chess board. I used to play… with my wife and sons…” his voice trailed off.

  Virgil grunted without empathy and moved one of the white chess pieces, motioning for his guest to make the next move. Reverend sat studying the marble chess board for a moment. He reached across to make his first move, stopping abruptly. “You’re not going to kill me if I beat you, are you?”

  Virgil tried his best to look shocked, only managing to look guiltier. “I’ve been playing since I was a child. My great-grandfather was a world champion, surely you don’t think you can beat me?”

  “Reverend smiled and picked up the black knight. Moving it, he looking at Virgil before setting it down. “Mind if we talk business, while we play?”

  Virgil was staring hard at the chess board. “Sure sure…go ahead.” He winked at his deputies before moving another of his pieces and leaning back in his chair.

  Reverend studied the chess board. “I have a lot of people who need water to cross the Griddle. I know it’s not going to be cheap, but we’re willing to pay the price, long as it’s at least a little bit fair. He made his move and continued to study the chess board.

  Virgil stared at Reverend. He couldn’t help but admire him. He studied the chess board before making his next move. “For that many, it’s gonna cost you one hundred silver a piece.” He looked expectantly at Reverend for a reaction to his outrageous price, but he was disappointed.

  Reverend registered no reaction, choosing instead to concentrate on the chess board instead. He made a mo
ve. “That’s ridiculous, and you know it. Make us a reasonable offer. One where we can both walk away with what we want… without having to die for it.”

  Virgil was pretty sure Reverend had just threatened him, but he wasn’t sure. “I tell you what. You bring me that good-looking woman and one hundred fifty silvers total and you and your rag-tag army can take the water and go on your merry way.”

  This time Reverend reacted. “I was hoping we could come to a peaceful solution, but if you’re going to be unreasonable, I’m afraid me and my, so-called, rag- tag army will just have to take the town and the water and leave you and your men dead.” He moved his queen. “By the way…checkmate.”

  Virgil stood, so mad he was shaking. He pointed his finger, at Reverend. “I think me and the boys are going to go ahead and kill you!”

  There was knock on the door. Virgil looked at Reverend, and Reverend sat smiling back at him, although Virgil noticed his fingertips were resting on his pistol grips. He nodded at one of the deputies to open the door. The deputy kept his eyes on Reverend, while he opened the door. It was Lucas. The deputy looked confused about whether or not to let him in.

  Lucas ignored him. Brushing by him, he went and sat down by Preacher. He was holding a sawed off 12 - gauge.

  “This is a private meeting,” Virgil said.

  “My apologies! Reverend told me to come by and tell him when we were finished surrounding the town, so that exactly what I come to do,” Lucas stated.

  One of the deputies stepped outside the door and looked both ways down the dust- swirling street. He came back in with a look on his face that told Virgil everything he needed to know. Virgil looked down at the chess board, shaking his head in disbelief. “I reckon you can have enough water to take with you, for seventy-five silvers a piece.”

  Reverend was staring at him while tapping his fingertips on the grips of his pistols.

  Virgil wanted to tell him to take off his creepy, mirrored sunglasses but he didn’t have the sand for that sort of thing. He wished that his daddy was still alive. His daddy wouldn’t have backed down from Reverend and his daddy would have figured out a way to kill Reverend and take the woman, but Virgil wasn’t near as smart, or as tough or as mad-dog mean as his daddy, so he backed down. “Alright…fifty silvers per person…final offer,” he managed to try and sound tough.

  Reverend looked at him, then Lucas. “I’ll give you ten silvers a piece, and no woman. You better feel lucky to get that and take it, because I’d much rather kill you than look at you… and tell your chicken-shit deputies to stop pointing their rifles at me and my friend!” Virgil nodded at the deputies and they dropped their weapons too quickly; which pissed Virgil off even more.

  Reverend rose to leave with Lucas following close behind him; his shotgun ready.

  Virgil walked ahead with his deputies following after him. He was open-mouthed and perplexed at being bested; not only in chess but at his money. They managed to make it three steps into the street before the first wave of screeching snogs overwhelmed them.

  Reverend, Virgil, Lucas, and two of the deputies survived, having barely made it back inside the sheriff’s office and barring the door, while the other two deputies were ripped and torn to pieces outside in the street. Virgil looked at Reverend. The tall thin man was holding his pistols, pointing them at him. “No more time for bullshit. Truce until we deal with everything else, then we’ll take our water and leave.”

  Virgil nodded grimly, walking over to the gun rack on the far wall. He unlocked it, throwing a shotgun and a box of ammo to Reverend. “I don’t like you, Reverend. Then again, maybe I do, but I damn sure don’t like snogs…truce.” He pointed his shotgun out of the window, pulled both triggers, and blew a snog’s head clean off.

  Reverend walked over beside him, stuck his shotgun out the window, pulled the trigger, and killed the nearest snog to him.

  Lucas went to work with his own shotgun. There was plenty more killing to be done.

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-TWO

  When Drok found out that his father, General Blood, had been killed by Daniel he went a little more than bat-shit crazy. He vowed to kill Daniel and was one of the first to volunteer for Magnus’ push to wipe out the rest of the rebels in Dead Stone. Unfortunately, the information he was getting from the scouts wasn’t entirely accurate.

  Drok was under the impression that Daniel would be leading the rebels to Star Towers. So, as he stood on the outskirts of Dead Stone and released the first wave of Snogs, it was with great gusto for he truly believed the man that killed his hero was in the town he was about to burn to the ground. It wasn’t as easy as he thought it would be.

  The rebels turned out to be a little tougher than he and his flesh-eating army had given them credit for. Drok had felt they’d be weary and still in shock- which they were, but when you push people, time and again, and you keep trying to kill and eat them, the human spirt tends to show up and fight back. For a while, it was a duck in a barrel shoot.

  The rebels had effectively bottled off the town, with Poet leading one company of fighters at one end of town and Jessie at the other. There had actually been a brief respite in the fighting as the leading Snog called his fighters back outside the town to regroup, and ask for assistance.

  Drok broke his forces into two, mixing each group equally with his most highly trained Blood-eyes and snogs. It worked. Jessie and his group were driven back from the edge of town- followed by Poet’s group until they were all fighting in the middle of town in front of and inside of the saloon. It was carnage.

  All around them lay the bodies of their slashed, hacked, and shot to death enemies. And still they kept coming… so many that many of them were waiting in line-so to speak- at their chance to join the fight. Reverend was soaked with the blood of his foes when Drok found him and attacked him. Reverend was out of bullets and unable to take a half a second to reload so he swung an old axe like a frenzied woodcutter.

  Drok was impressed. He was bigger than his father, and still Reverend was able to hold him off, deflecting the blows of his war hammers, staying just out of his reach. For five grueling minutes, each of them took flesh from the other.

  All around them people were bleeding; some of them feeding, some dying, and the others screaming in agony and terror. Drok finally managed to hit Reverend’s shoulder, driving him back into the bar. Reverend groaned, falling to one knee, bringing his axe up just in time to avoid having his head caved in. He stood straight up, catching Drok just under the chin with the blade of his axe.

  It bought him some precious time. Reverend stepped to the side and swung his axe, catching Drok in the side of his knee. Drok screamed, falling sideways, coming down hard on the floor. Reverend swung as hard as he could, and the back end of his axe head slammed down flush on Drok’s forehead, bursting it apart like a rotten piece of fruit.

  Then he was swinging and slashing at Drok’s personal guard. Poet was at his side, darting in and out with his long knives- just like the old lady had taught him. The place was packed. There was barely enough room to swing a short sword. Unfortunately, most of them were bad guys. They started to realize that there were just too many of them.

  That’s when the first Rattle cat came crashing through the saloon’s front window, viciously attacking the first two snogs it saw. Poet and his friends fought for their lives, in disbelief as Rattle cat after Rattle cat came in and attacked the snogs. “Keep fighting …keep fighting!” Reverend shouted.

  For a while, the noise of battle overcame them, then they saw someone that none of them expected to see. Poet shouted for joy as he watched the old lady deftly stabbing out with her long knives, killing efficiently; just like she’d taught him.

  He and Reverend and Angel stabbed, slashed and hacked their way over to her, stepping on dead and dying bodies. Even with the Rattle cats help they were still outnumbered, although the snogs seemed to have lost their taste for battle. Everyone knows snogs and Rattle cats don’t get along and the Rattle cats seemed
to be gaining the upper hand.

  “I thought you were dead!” shouted Poet, ducking under the swing of a Blood- eye, and then coming up behind it, stabbing it in the back of its neck while Onyx tore into its arm.

  “Just needed some time off!” the old lady shouted as she ducked and slashed, winked at him and grinned. They fought as one, for what seemed like forever, and finally, when they could swing and slash no more, Drok’s second in command, was forced to sound retreat and the remaining survivors were left to count their losses.

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-THREE

  “This is the Red Robin.

  Stop what you’re doing and listen. Dead Stone is under attack. If you’re close enough to go and help then go and help…if not, our prayers and thoughts are with all of you fighting rebels. If I thought I could make it across the Griddle I would and I would fight with all of my rage against the enemy, but I am unable to travel because Siros has put on me a spell of deterioration.”

  The Red Robin’s voice was thick with emotion, he paused for a moment. Across the territory, listeners who knew what deterioration meant started to cry. The Red Robin was dying.

  “My friends and fellow patriots, I am tired and weary and feel more than a little foolish for burdening you with all of my problems while you go through the violent blender that you’re in. I simply wanted you to know that if I die tonight, would that I die talking with you- my loyal followers.

  Come home, true Americans. Come to the Star Towers and if the Blood-eyes are stupid enough to cross the Griddle after you and try and mess with you when you’re here, well then my fellow rebels, we’ll fight and keep fighting until every one of them are dead…dead…dead. Come home survivors, come home!”

  Again the Red Robin paused. The listeners could hear him coughing in the back ground. It was a deep wet cough and it scared the listeners, and shook the listeners because the Red Robin was the life blood pumping in their veins, the one thing uniting them and giving them the strength to keep on keeping on.