The Last Survivors (Book 6): The Last Conquest

by Bobby Adair

  If they arrived.

  Bray was so caught up in his worry that he almost didn't notice a disturbance in the clearing ahead. At the last moment, Bray halted at the edge of the forest, quieted his horses, and drew his sword. He peered through a last, thick cluster of pine trees and saw a woman running.

  Bray watched the thin woman weave through the field, looking over her shoulder. Her clothes were disheveled. Her long, dark hair swayed over a stuffed bag on her back. He squinted as he tried to get a better look at an object she was clutching, but he was distracted by three demons emerging from a patch of forest beyond the woman, snarling, chasing her.

  Fucking hell.

  Hadn't he had enough trouble lately? Bray didn't have to think hard to remember how the last time he had intervened in something had turned out. He was still trying to sort out the mess with William, and killing Ella was a mistake he'd never forget.

  Cursing his decision before he made it, he trotted into the field on his horse and raised his sword. Before he could take action, the woman stopped, spun, and thrust a strange piece of metal in the direction of the demons.

  Something flashed from the end of it.

  A crack pierced the air.

  One of the demons fell, screeching and clutching its stomach, as if it had been struck by an invisible foe. Blood leaked from a wound that shouldn't have been there.

  Bray didn't understand what he was seeing.

  Something was very wrong.

  He choked the reins of his horse and trotted it backward.

  The woman shifted the object and a spear of yellow fire flashed from the end as another thunder crack sounded.

  A second demon fell as its head erupted, spraying a fountain of blood and gore.

  More fire. Another bang, and the third demon went down.

  All three were on the ground, two dead, the first writhing.

  The woman was on her feet before Bray even realized it, crossing through the grass, approaching the wounded demon with her strange metal tool. She stopped, hovered over the demon, and raised the object.

  More fire. More god-awful noise.

  The demon's head rolled to the side and it moved no more.

  Bray remained in place, in shock.

  Tech Magic.

  The woman looked over her shoulder, noticing Bray on his horse at the edge of the clearing. She swiveled the metal object in his direction, her eyes roaming from him to the horses, seemingly more interested in the beasts than in him.

  "What are you staring at?" she yelled across the field.

  Chapter 43: Fitz

  Fitz walked through Market Street with Ginger at her side and a circle of Strong Women around her. The women going about their shopping and selling bustled with a new kind of energy. Most of the others in town were collecting weapons, preparing for the oncoming army with the assistance of the women of the New House. Immediately after her speech, Fitz had sent her women to implement the plans upon which they'd decided in her meeting room.

  Some part of her couldn't believe the crowd had listened. She'd felt a power in her speech that she never believed she had. A while ago, her hopes had centered on escaping The House of Barren Women. She never thought she'd be in a position to change Brighton.

  And yet here everyone was, working together, ready to defend the township and change their men's minds. Ready to keep out Winthrop.

  Looking around, she found the familiar street corner in the market where Franklin had made his last powerful speech in the rain. Staring at the street, she could almost envision him standing there, spurring her on. She hadn't been to the market since that day. Some part of her had avoided it, or maybe she hadn't wanted to face the fact that they had failed. She fought back the tears welling in her eyes.

  She recalled standing behind the gathering people, cheering him on. She'd been so proud of him.

  But this day was even more proud. Fitz's and Franklin's plan had succeeded.

  The People were going to make Brighton what it was meant to be.

  Every so often, someone would recognize Fitz's group and wave, or yell Fitz's name as she walked through the street. She acknowledged them with a half-smile and a nod. She heard Winthrop's name on more than a few tongues, followed by a curse. Winthrop's name had become both a foul word and a motivation to keep going. Women rolled pushcarts from buildings and stores, carting weapons and supplies they'd found inside. Their nervousness about what was to come was tempered by keeping busy.

  "The collection is coming well?" Fitz asked Ginger.

  "We're gathering some weapons," Ginger said. "But not nearly enough."

  "I didn't expect we'd be able to arm everyone," Fitz said.

  "We'll do what we can," Ginger agreed.

  They walked past a blacksmith shop. Inside, handfuls of people hovered around the forge; others hammered away on metal. Fitz saw women and older children coordinating and attaching metal to wood as they created spears.

  She moved on, noticing a few merchants' wives whittling away on wood with their knives, fashioning crude weapons. A smile crossed her face as she watched them work.

  Chapter 44: Bray

  "Let me guess, another one who has never seen a gun," the woman called with an annoyed smile as she appraised Bray from across the field. "Throw your sword away and get off the beast, or you'll end up like the demons."

  She waved the weapon in her hand to tell Bray she meant it.

  Bray lowered his sword reluctantly. If he hadn't already seen the power of the strange weapon, he might've argued, or tried to fight or run. But who knew how far the weapon might work? He tossed his sword on the ground, looking between the woman and the dead demons.

  "Get off the animal!" the woman yelled. "I won't say it again."

  Bray dismounted, unable to take his eyes off the strange device that was pointed in his direction, connecting the stories he'd heard about the Ancients with the object the woman held in her hand. He'd heard tales about weapons that flashed fire and killed from a distance. Every boy in the townships and villages had. But until he'd seen this one and what it could do, he hadn't believed them. Was this woman one of the Ancients? She certainly dressed differently than anyone he'd seen. And she had an accent he didn't recognize.

  His eyes flew back to the metal object with the small tube at the end, as if it might flash fire and send him tumbling to the ground. He clutched the rope connecting his horse's bridles, trying to keep the beasts still, but they were stamping nervously.

  "Are those horses?" the woman asked, her tone changing to amazement as she walked closer.

  "Of course," Bray answered.

  "Why are they stamping the ground like that?"

  "They're nervous. All that damn noise you're making has them thinking they're going to battle."

  "Are they going to attack me?" The woman raised the weapon higher.

  "No. They're nervous about the demons," Bray said, pointing to the dead ones across the field, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "They smell them."

  "I didn't know that they could…" The woman reconsidered her response.

  "Could what?"

  "Fight demons." The woman looked from Bray to the horses, trying to put something together in her head.

  Bray puffed up his chest as he made a realization. "You've never seen horses, I take it? My horses can stomp down as many demons as I come across. I've taught them well," he lied.

  The woman remained tight-lipped, as if she'd already spoken too much. She waved the gun. "Walk away from the horses and let go of the rope," she demanded.

  "If I don't hold the rope, they'll run," Bray explained.

  "Hold it, then. But walk farther away from them. Are you alone?"

  "Yes." Bray looked around, as if someone else might appear. "Where did you get that gun?" he asked.

  "I'll ask the questions," the woman said, waving the gun to demonstrate her intention. He didn't need an interpretation to know what she might do to him. "Do the horses trust anybody to ride
on them?"

  Bray nodded. "They're good animals. They've done well for me."

  The woman nodded as Bray reached the end of the rope and stopped.

  "I can't go any further," he said. "Unless you want them to run away."

  The woman walked toward Bray until she was within reaching distance. "Hand me the rope," she said.

  Bray looked at her with a suspicion that was slowly becoming a reality. "Are you robbing me?"

  A faint smile crossed Kirby's face as she pointed the Ancient gun directly at his head, taking the rope and slowly stepping back toward the horses. She approached Bray's horse, mounted it, and found her balance.

  "Give me your bag, too," she said, holding out one of her hands, keeping the gun pointed at him with the other.

  "My bag?"

  "Don't pretend you can't hear. It's too late for that."

  Bray tossed her the bag and she caught it. She slung it over her shoulder.

  "Are you going to leave me with nothing?" Bray protested.

  "No," the woman said. "I'm leaving you with your sword." She motioned to the blade that he'd dropped farther back in the clearing. "You're lucky I'm doing that."

  The woman rode away.

  Chapter 45: Bray

  "Wait!" Bray cried as the strange woman rode off with his horses and his bag. He glanced back at his sword. He wanted to run after her, knock her from the horse, and take back his things, but fear of the Ancient gun kept him in place. And besides, he'd never catch her on foot.

  Instead, he watched her trying to keep her balance as she fought with the stirrups, which were adjusted for Bray's legs and much too low for her feet to reach while sitting in the saddle. She swayed back and forth as she crossed half the clearing, looking over her shoulder every so often to ensure he wasn't chasing after her. One of the horses snorted, making her inadvertently pull hard on the reins, causing the horses to stop.

  "Don't do that!" she yelled, but her horse was clearly agitated, and it was riling up the others. "Keep going!" She swatted the horse's side, but it didn't move. "These things might as well be useless," she muttered.

  "Wait!" Bray called, taking a step in her direction.

  "Stay back!" she warned.

  "I can teach you to ride!"

  The woman laughed as she tried to keep her balance. "You think I'm stupid enough to believe that?"

  "You'll wish you did, when you fall and break your arm."

  The woman tried to control the horse, but it was stomping its hooves and not listening. She watched Bray, suspicious, but slowly coming to the realization that he was right.

  "The horses can sense you're nervous," Bray called.

  "You said they were good horses. You said anyone could ride them."

  "They are, if you know how to handle them." Groping for a lie convincing enough to make her stop, Bray added, "They might attack you, like they do the demons, if you don't use the right commands."

  The woman clutched the horse's reins. "Why should I believe you?"

  "You have a gun. You can easily kill me, if you want. But I can give you instructions on how to ride them before you go."

  "Why would you help me, when I robbed you?"

  "If you're going to take my horses, I want them to be taken care of. I've owned them since I was a boy. They're like family to me." Bray pointed at the horse she was riding. "That one's name is…Jeremiah. And the ones behind it are…ah…Blackthorn and Fuller."

  The woman leaned from side to side as she tried to catch herself from falling. "You're saying this so you can attack me. You're going to have them throw me off."

  "Wouldn't I have done that already, if that was what I intended?" Bray asked with a shrug, trying to hide the fact that he'd already considered that option. But he still didn't trust that she wouldn't harm him with the gun, even if she fell first.

  "Start talking," the woman said.

  Bray walked until he was fifteen feet from her and stopped.

  "Tell me what I need to know," the woman said.

  "To begin with, you're going to have to let go of the pommel. That's the curved part you're hanging on to. You're going to need to grab the reins."

  "The reins?"

  "The smaller ropes attached to the horse you're on."

  The woman cursed as she let go of the pommel, trying to maintain her balance.

  "To start the horses moving, give a little kick with your heels and make this noise with your mouth a few times." Bray demonstrated two clicks. "If you pull gently on the reins, the horses will stop."

  The woman followed his instruction. She commanded the horse to trot, then pulled gently on the reins, prompting it to halt. The others followed, and then paused behind it.

  "You'll get used to it," Bray said with a nod.

  "What else do I need to know?" she asked.

  "When you want to go one way or the other, pull either side of the horse's reins." The woman watched him as if he might be lying. "Go ahead, try it, if you want."

  The woman tested his instructions, riding a few paces and then turning, keeping Bray in her sights. She seemed surprised that the horse obeyed. "Why are you really showing me this?" she asked, furrowing her brow. "You don't really care about the horses that much, do you?"

  Bray held up his hands. "I was hoping you might give me one of them back," he admitted.

  The woman laughed as if it was the funniest thing she'd heard all day. "Why would I do that?"

  "Because I need to find my son."

  "Your son?" The laughter on the woman's face disappeared and she looked around the clearing, as if she might be ambushed. "You lied. You're not alone."

  "I'm by myself," Bray assured her.

  "Where is he?"

  "I wish I knew. William was kidnapped this morning."

  "By whom?" the woman asked.

  "A group of men snuck up on him. I went out to get kindling for our fire, and when I came back, they were riding off with him," Bray said, looking down at the ground. "I should've watched more carefully. It's my fault. I tried chasing them down, but they had a head start, and I lost them."

  The woman watched him with an expression that showed she didn't believe him. "Where did they go?"

  "They were heading toward the canyon." Bray pointed off to the west. "If I followed them directly into it, they'd see me. I know a shortcut, and I was hoping to cut around and head them off."

  Hoping to solidify his story, Bray continued, "William and I were on a hunting trip from Brighton. I was teaching him how to catch rabbits. He was too young, I think. And now I've lost him."

  "You said you were from Brighton?" the woman asked.

  "Yes," Bray answered.

  A flicker of recognition went through her eyes as he confirmed the town's name. "I'm somewhat familiar with Brighton. I've met some people from there. What do the people who took your son look like?"

  "You won't believe me when I tell you."

  "Tell me."

  "A few of them were shirtless, despite the cold. They wore demon's blood on their clothing. I've seen these people before. They're savages. They eat demons. And I'm worried about what they might do to my son. Have you seen them or my son?"

  "I haven't, but the people I met from Brighton told me about others like that." The woman's eyes passed over Bray as she recalled something. "I'm not sure it's the same group. How many did you say there were?"

  "Only a handful," Bray lied. "And they can't be far from here. I'm afraid of what they might do to William. I can only imagine why they took him. I need to get him back as soon as I can. If I had a horse, I might have a chance at saving him. And if I had an Ancient device like yours…"

  The woman looked down at the weapon in her hand.

  "I understand if you have to be on your way," Bray said quietly, averting his eyes.

  The woman made a face. "You're not getting my gun," she said matter-of-factly. Looking at the bag on her back, she added, "Any of them."

  "I didn't ask for them. But if you'd be willi
ng to help me get my son back, I'd have no problem giving you two of my horses when we're done."

  The woman looked down at the horse, which was still agitated and stamping the ground. "You'll show me how to ride?"

  "I'll tell you everything I know on the way."

  "If you try anything, I'll put a bullet in you."

  "I'm not sure what that word means, but I believe you," Bray said.

  Chapter 46: Fitz

  It was late afternoon, and Fitz and her women were still waking through town, overseeing the collection of weapons, when Fitz's attention was ripped away by the sight of two horses coming down the center of the street.

  Tara and Loren.

  Fitz walked in the direction of the riders, steeling for some news. The horses breathed heavily as they galloped the final steps to Fitz's group. Tara dismounted, her face ashen. Noticing that people were watching, Fitz called them to a quiet corner, where they could talk without being so closely observed.

  "Did you find the rest of the army?" Fitz asked.

  Tara took a moment to form the words. "Only Winthrop's. But there's something else coming."

  "What?"

  "Demons. Lots of them. It looks like they're headed in this direction. They're following Winthrop and his men."

  "Oh, no," said Fitz.

  Chapter 47: Fitz

  "Demons?" Ginger shook her head, unable to stop fright from seeping into her voice.

  The other women looked grave as Fitz stared absently around the courtyard, her gaze roaming from the monument to the buildings. After quietly dismissing Tara and Loren, Fitz, Ginger, and the other women who had been walking with her in the marketplace made their way back to the New House. They hadn't said anything to the townsfolk, but surely the rumors would spread. They always did.

  "The meeting at the square went better than I expected, but this news will surely shake even the strongest woman's resolve," Fitz said.