by Andy Monk
“Ain’t had any of that shit around here in years.”
Donnelly shook his head, “Weren’t just drifters, there were lots of em out on the grass. Lots of places being attacked.”
He frowned and leant in closer, “How many places got hit, Wade?”
Donnelly looked up, pale beneath his flustered, sweaty skin.
“All of em Sheriff… they’re burning all of em…”
The Gunslinger
He’d insisted they ride away from the camp as soon as possible. No souls were close enough for him to sense out in the still, silent night, but the sound of gunshots carried a lot further than his strange and not always reliable gift, especially out here where nature was quiet and most noises were swallowed by the great emptiness.
Other Scourge raiding parties were out there and he wanted plenty of miles between them if the bodies were found. Still, Sye was in no condition to ride. His face was a mass of swollen bruises and dried blood, while his eyes kept drifting in and out of focus. From the way he’d shuffled towards the horses when he’d finally gotten him to his feet it looked like the Scourge’s boots had cracked a couple of ribs. He needed to rest and keep still, but there was no time for that. They needed to get everyone to Hawker’s Drift while they still could.
The girl Cave and his men had raped wasn’t in much better shape. She’d told Dorry her name was Nicole Brolin, but she wouldn’t even glance his way let alone speak to him. Dorry had explained to her the need to get away from the camp.
Nicole had nodded her understanding and let herself be led towards the horses too, breaking away from the arm Dorry kept around her shoulders only long enough to spit on the corpse of one of her tormentors.
With Dun and White Mane and the horses of Cave and his men hobbled near the camp there were enough for everyone, but they were going to be moving much slower than he’d have liked.
“You know how to use this?” he held out a rifle towards the woman who’d been the first of the hog-tied prisoners he’d freed. She was a few years older than the others and she seemed to be holding it together better.
“Sure,” she took the rifle and put a round in the chamber, nodding at the gagged and bound figure of Cave, “you mind if I practice on him?”
“I want to ask him some questions,” he shrugged, “after that…”
“Deal…” the woman nodded and rammed the rifle into a scabbard hanging from one of the dead mens’ horse, “…name’s Sally Lumiere.”
“Amos.”
“I’d say it was a pleasure.”
She was smart and resourceful enough to know she needed to keep things together otherwise she’d never get the time to shed the tears she needed to.
“Thanks all the same…”
He nodded and felt awkward.
He turned his eyes to the third woman and the girl. He didn’t know either of their names and both were staring glassy-eyed into the darkness. The young woman holding the girl’s hand but saying nothing.
“Did they…?”
“Not this group, only Nicole… but before… Cailyn was, like me… Laura… I don’t think so…”
“Something, I suppose.”
“Yeah… she just had to watch them gun down her father and rape her mother before they killed her too.”
“Jesus…”
“Think he was busy elsewhere today.”
He’d always considered “I’m sorry” to be the most worthless expression, certainly after Severn had ripped his life apart. How many times had friends and neighbours shuffled up in front of him before he’d recovered enough to start along that vengeful road in pursuit and uttered those useless words. It didn’t stop him saying them to Sally Lumiere though.
“We’re all sorry… I’d just like to know why this is happening to us.”
His gaze fell on Cave, watching them with wide, wary eyes.
“Me too…” he whispered, “…me too…”
*
They rode west under the starlight. He took the lead, partly to make it easier to sense souls waiting for them in the night, but mainly to distance himself from the pain, anger, grief and shock fizzing and spitting through the Scourge survivors he had somehow ended up being responsible for.
He’d told Dorry to ride close to Cave, who was hoisted over the saddle on his belly and tied to the horse. Not to stop him getting away, but to prevent one of his victims seeking vengeance before he’d questioned the Scourge killer.
Sally was at the back looking after Sye, which largely meant making sure the beaten young man didn’t topple off his horse, while Nicole, Cailyn and Laura rode close together behind Cave and Dorry.
It was past midnight by the time he called the group of survivors to a halt. He’d have ridden all night to get to Hawker’s Drift ahead of the Scourge, but three of the women had been brutally raped, Sye had been beaten senseless, Laura had seen her parents murdered and Dorry hadn’t exactly had an easy couple of days either. Better that they grabbed some rest when they could. There might be a time soon when he would have to push them hard to keep them alive.
“We’ll make camp here, get a few hours before dawn,” he announced to the dozen eyes glistening in the darkness. It was a patch of grass no different from any other and the stars looked much the same wherever you decided to lay your head, but resting was much more about time than place.
While the survivors dismounted and tried to make themselves as comfortable as possible on the grass, he hauled Cave of his horse and dragged him away. Dorry and Sally watched him, the others were already curling up on blankets.
He jerked his head towards the horses and Dorry nodded her understanding.
Once he was far enough away he worked on the ropes binding Cave till he was hog-tied much the same way his prisoners had been. When he was satisfied the bastard wasn’t going anywhere he pulled the rag from his mouth.
“Who the fuck are you?” Cave demanded, trying to roll onto his side.
He watched in silence. It made no difference to him what position the raider wanted to die in.
“I said, who the fuck are you?” Cave panted once he’d managed to get onto his side. It looked like he was discovering it wasn’t any more comfortable than being on his belly.
He hunkered down to get a better view of the man’s face in the starlight, “Just a man… no one important.”
“Why’d you attack us? One of those girls belong to you?”
“You’ve been killing, raping and burning anything you can find, and you have to ask me why I attacked you?”
Cave’s eyes flicked to the black sash he’d put back on in case they ran into any more of the Scourge.
“Where’d you get that?”
“It was Henderson’s, I think, can’t quite remember as I took a few from the corpses…”
“You killed Henderson?”
“And his men.”
“All of them?”
“Most of em, that skinny young wisp of a girl…” he nodded towards Dorry, “…accounted for a couple before I turned up.”
Cave looked impressed, which wasn’t the reaction he’d expected.
“Why-”
“Fella, you’re hog-tied on the grass. I get to ask the questions.”
“My name’s Leland Cave.”
“Do you think I give a shit about your name?”
Leland Cave shrugged, which wasn’t easy when you were hog-tied, “That’s the only question we’re supposed to answer if we fall into enemy hands.”
“Enemy hands?”
“You attacked Troopers of the Scourge going about their business.”
“The business of murder, rape and wanton destruction?”
“We’ve been ordered to cleanse this area.”
“Ordered by who?”
“My name is Leland Cave.”
He nodded and rose to his feet. He walked a slow circuit around the prostrate man, “I’ve got three choices Mr Leland Cave. I can take you back to Hawker’s Drift for trial, I can put a bullet in you now to save m
yself the inconvenience of hauling your sorry, worthless ass all that way, or…” he looked back at the survivors of the Scourge huddled together in the grass “…I can give those girls my knife and let them find their own justice for what’s been done to them. How co-operative you are is gonna play a big part in my thinking...”
“It’s Sergeant Leland Cave,” there was no tremor in his voice, though fear rippled momentarily through the colours of his soul like a pebble had been tossed into a pond.
“My mistake,” he came to a halt in front of his face, when he crouched back down he was holding his hunting knife, “what’s it gonna be?”
“There is another option.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Join us. The Scourge is always looking for the strong… we’re the future.”
“I’ve killed ten of your friends today, three of them with this knife, why would you want me?”
“Because you were stronger than they were. You cut away the weak, that’s how we grow, the weakest die and are replaced by the strongest. The strong survive, the strong thrive. It’s survival of the fittest Mister. It’s called evolution…”
“Evolution?”
“Yeah, I’d never heard of it before I joined either, it’s from some book written before The Reaping. The Old Man found a copy somewhere, it’s what inspired him. Inspires us all to make the world better.”
His gaze flicked back towards the women.
“Better?”
“By cleansing the world of the weak and breeding from the strong to create a new, nobler, prouder race!” Cave’s voice rose in pitch as he spoke, but not with fear or pleading, but zeal. He clearly believed the shit he was spouting.
“By raping women?”
“There aren’t enough babies anymore. Everyone knows that, but they’re too weak to do anything about it. We ain’t. The Old Man tells us the idea of man and wife is from another age, from before The Reaping. It don’t work no more. Every strong young woman must submit to every man to increase the chance of getting with child. We find the ones strong enough; strong in body, mind, heart and spirit and they become Brides of the Scourge, married to all of us and mothers of the New Nation!”
“The Old Man?”
“Colonel Saalt. The founder of the Scourge and father of the New Nation!” Cave’s soul shimmered into life, glowing with the honeyed hues of love and devotion.
“And I thought you were just a bunch of mindless killers and rapists…”
“No…” Cave shook his head “…we have a purpose and a vision. We are building a better future!”
“The Scourge is heading for Hawker’s Drift, isn’t it?”
Cave’s eyes narrowed again and his soul faded back into the night, “My name is Leland Cave.”
He spun the knife in his hand.
“Cut me free and we’ll go back to the Host together. A man like you will be embraced there.”
“A man like me?”
“A man who can kill ten of us. We need men like you with us, not against us, to build the New Nation!”
“Why is the Scourge heading for Hawker’s Drift?”
“You know your words?”
Amos nodded.
“Then read The Doctrine.”
“The Doctrine?”
“Colonel Saalt’s vision. It explains everything, I have a copy in-”
He put the blade under Cave’s chin.
“Start answering my questions.”
“I ain’t scared of you. I ain’t scared of dying. I got righteous purpose.”
“You’re scared Leland, I can see it flickering through your soul in time to the beating of your heart.
Cave’s nostrils flared, “I ain’t fucking scared.”
He reached out with his free hand and gripped Cave’s thinning hair, his lips curling back as images flashed behind his eyes. Sometimes he got nothing, sometimes he got disjointed glimpses of memories, thoughts and emotions. This time he got a flood. Maybe it was Cave’s fear, maybe it was just happenstance or maybe it was something to do with this place, this great emptiness where his gift seemed to be more defined and stronger than he’d ever known it before.
Or maybe the Thin Rider wanted him to see all the pain and filth in the world.
“You’ve hurt so many people…”
“We’re cleansing the world, cutting back the weeds-”
He slammed Cave’s head into the ground and jumped away from the man, his own heart suddenly racing, his fingers smarting like he’d thrust them into a fire.
He found he didn’t want to learn more about the Scourge after all.
“How does a man, born of a mother’s love, come to be like you?” he whispered.
Cave shook his head and looked up at him, blood trickling from his nostrils.
“The fuck you talking about? My mother never had a spit of love for me.”
“So full of hate… for everything.”
“Hate the weak, love the strong, that’s what the Colonel’s Doctrine tells us. And in the end, all that will be left in the world are the strong and the New Nation will have been born!”
Cave’s eyes were burning again, his fervour overpowering his fear the way this warped Doctrine had overcome any sense of morality that may once have existed within him.
“A man like you should be joining us. Cut me free and we’ll take these girls to become Brides and mothers of the New Nation.”
“Why the man? Why didn’t you kill him?”
“He killed a trooper with a hammer. He’s young, he’s strong, he’s to be given a chance to join the Scourge, just like you can.”
“I’m not like you…”
“Sure you are, you just need the Colonel to open your eyes. You’re a killer Mister, stronger and faster. We need men like you…”
“No,” he shook his head, “you don’t.”
He turned on his heels and walked back through the long grass to the survivors.
Sally was still standing apart from the others, waiting for him.
As he approached he reversed his blade and handed it to her.
“I couldn’t get much out of him.”
Sally stared first at the knife and then into his’ eyes before reaching out and taking it. He walked past her without glancing at any of the others who were staring blankly at him.
Or at the rider in a long, soiled coat and a shit-brown hat whose gleeful bone-dry laughter echoed around him.
The Widow
There was a commotion outside the Sheriff’s Office, which, in her experience, usually meant the good people of Hawker’s Drift were in the mood to hang someone.
There was a knot of men in the square and horses were being led out from the stables. She was pretty sure Amelia couldn’t possibly have caused this much trouble in a couple of hours, but still…
As she approached the Sheriff’s Office she spotted Monty at the back of the crowd, standing with his hands on his hips and looking concerned. Whenever there was a gathering on the square Monty was usually out sniffing around to see if he could flog some booze. Judging by his hangdog expression, this time there wasn’t.
“Hey, Monty, what’s happening?”
The saloon owner nodded a greeting and pulled a face, “Wade Donnelly’s place got attacked by drifters, he took a bullet but managed to get away.”
“Wade Donnelly?”
“Lives outta town. Comes in once a month or so to get drunk and get laid. Nice fella.”
A real diamond, no doubt.
She shifted from one foot to the other and pulled her own face. Amos had run into a couple of renegades and had thought there were more out there. He’d been worried enough to think she was safer staying in Hawker’s Drift than heading out onto the grass. Which said a fucking lot. What had he said they’d been called…
“The Scourge?”
“Huh?” Monty squinted at her.
“What are they going to do?”
“Sheriff’s getting some men together to go take a look see. Sou
nds like some other places got hit too. Bad business”
Which translated as bad for business.
“I saw some smoke out to the east from up on Corner Park…”
“Long time since this shit happened here.”
“How long?”
“Not since I was a kid.”
“Jeesh, that long?”
“Funny lady.”
She shouldered her way through the crowd and into the Sheriff’s Office, a clutch of town deputies were gathered inside with Sam and the Mayor, pouring over a map spread across a desk.
She didn’t immediately spot Amelia peering over the edge of the desk, a Stetson on her head, watching with wide-eyed fascination.
“You that short of deputies?”
Sam looked up and offered her a thin grin, “Thought it best I keep her where I could see her. Got enough trouble today.”
Amelia grabbed her hand, “Molly! There’s bad men coming!”
Looking around the table it looked like some of them were already here.
“No need to worry,” the Mayor said, “everything is under control.”
“I bet,” turning her attention back to the Sheriff she asked, “Is this the Scourge?”
Sam glanced at the Mayor before answering, “Dunno, might be nothing, Wade lives a long way outta town. Probably has nothing to do with the fellas Amos ran into.”
“I saw smoke on the horizon, something’s burning out to the east.”
“We’re checking it out, so far only Wade’s come into town, if this was anything bigger than a few desperados more people would have fled here. We can handle it.”
“There’s no need to worry Molly,” the Mayor offered, “go home. You’re completely safe in Hawker’s Drift. Both of you.”
She didn’t feel safe at all. She felt helpless and alone.
And she had a bad, bad feeling…
*
“Desperados…” Amelia said. Again.
It seemed it was a word she liked the sound of and she was still much too young for Molly to offer her a less romantic sounding and more accurate one. Like bastards.
“Will they come and shoot up the town?”
“I doubt it hun.”
“But the Sheriff is old and fat, can he lock all of the desperados up?”
“I’m sure he’ll do his best.”