A God of Many Tears (Hawker's Drift Book 4)

by Andy Monk

  He’d been alone then and he’d been alone ever since he’d run away. Just him, Hobart’s old Bible and God. Who, in his infinite wisdom, had guided him across the Broken Union and the great empty grass to Hawker’s Drift to see the angels in the twilight and confront the Devil. He hadn’t known why. He still didn’t. All he knew was that things were coming to an end. His penance was nearly served. For what he’d done and what Hobart, the only friend he’d ever known, had suffered because of it.

  “I should go and get Ruthie…” Kate announced, pulling him from his thoughts.

  “Stay with Emily, it is safer. I’m much better at sneaking about. Nobody really sees me after all.”

  He also knew the backways and quiet places in the town. He’d long sought them out to be closer to his thoughts and closer to his god. He’d been able to steer Kate and Emily from the junk-cluttered lane running along the back of their house and across town without being noticed. If he let Kate leave the old warehouse alone he suspected she wouldn’t be coming back. Not with the same memories she’d left with anyway.

  “Ruthie won’t come with you… and people will notice. It will look odd.”

  “I will get Molly or Miss Jones to pick Ruthie up then. That should work admirably.”

  “Molly McCrea?”

  He nodded, “She is aware of what is going on in this town. As is Miss Jones. The singer. They will be only too happy to help I am sure. We are all soldiers in the same army now.”

  She didn’t look entirely convinced.

  “Do you want to leave Emily here?”

  Kate shook her head.

  “Then let us whisk Ruthie here in no time. And then we can decide what shall be done.”

  “Done?”

  “You can’t stay here forever.”

  She looked around the warehouse, its shadows speared by the light that snuck between the ill-fitting planks, “No… of course. But what can we do?”

  “We shall think of something. With the Lord’s help, we will,” he said in what he considered to be his most reassuring voice.

  Kate managed to look even less convinced.

  The Gunslinger

  Every time they changed direction the Scourge riders did the same.

  “Can we outrun them?” Dorry asked, twisting in her saddle again.

  “How hard do you think they can ride?”

  “They’re all kinda bashed in, one way or another…”

  He glanced over his shoulder at the dishevelled group behind him; Sally looked defiant, Sye looked vacant, Cailyn was concentrating too hard on not falling off her horse to look anything much. Nicole and Laura both looked terrified. They were all bruised, bloody, bleary-eyed and sweat-stained.

  “How many you count?” Dorry asked.

  “Ten. You?”

  “Same.”

  “Seems to be the Scourge’s favourite number.”

  “Huh?”

  “Most of the raiding parties I’ve seen have been ten strong.”

  “You sure they’re Scourge?”

  “Oh yeah.”

  “So why ain’t they ignoring us like the others?”

  He could only offer a shrug. “Maybe too many of us, maybe we’re getting too close to town, maybe they run out of places to burn down. Ain’t planning on asking them.”

  “So, we kick dust?”

  He’d been slowly increasing their speed, but he’d hoped the raiding party would lose interest without having to push the horses to a gallop. Cailyn, knew one end of a horse from another, but, despite growing up on a farm, not much more, Laura was just a kid and was almost too terrified to think let alone ride, while Sye looked like one more bump or jolt would kill him. But out here, where there was nowhere to hide and throw a pursuer there wasn’t a heap of options.

  “Give it another couple of minutes.”

  The raiders were closing on them, but only gradually. They were still little more than black dots against the sun-baked grass. The one advantage they had was that most of their group were a lot lighter than the men pursuing them, so their horses should be able to go longer without tiring. He was banking on the fact the Scourge wouldn’t want to flog their horses too hard, they were in enemy territory after all and the closer they got to Hawker’s Drift the greater likelihood they would run into some of the town’s guns.

  He’d hoped to be in town by nightfall, but they’d been pushed so far north avoiding raiding parties he wasn’t sure if that was still likely.

  He reined back to walking pace and let the others come up alongside.

  “Looks like this bunch are taking an interest, so we’re going to have to ride hard to keep them off us till we reach town.”

  Cailyn turned her reins over in her hands and looked so miserable you could almost believe she thought letting the Scourge catch her again would be less painful than belting across the grass on horseback.

  Still, he hadn’t been raped by Christ alone knew how many men recently so what the fuck did he know.

  Sally took off the hat she’d taken from one of the dead men and waved it in front of her flushed face. It was too big for her and was covered in all manner of hard to identify stains. In addition to the hat she’d liberated a gun belt too. From the set of her face he suspected she was the only one in the group who’d prefer to turn and ride towards the raiders. All guns blazing.

  Her yearning for vengeance was palpable. He’d never seen the colours of his own soul, but if he ever did they’d probably look a lot like Sally Lumiere’s.

  “We’ll head west and then veer south-west that should take us straight to Hawker’s Drift.”

  “How can you be sure that’s the quickest way?” Sally demanded.

  “It’s the only direction there isn’t any smoke.”

  He let his gaze wash over them. They were all looking to him to get them to safety. It wasn’t something he wanted or was much cut out for. However, somehow, he’d landed the job.

  “Now get going, ride hard and don’t stop till you reach town or your horse drops dead. Get!!!”

  They turned their horses due west with varying degrees of unenthusiasm and geed them forwards, faster than they’d been riding before, but nowhere near as fast as these horses could go. And nowhere near as fast as the Scourge raiders could push theirs.

  He remained where he was, as did Sye, who rested his hands on the pommel of his saddle and peered at him through bruised and swollen eyes.

  “That means you too,” he growled.

  “They can’t ride fast enough.”

  “They can if they’re scared enough.”

  “Not sure if they can get any more scared.”

  He glanced at the women, their fear forking clearly through both their souls and the dust thrown up by their horses.

  “Maybe.”

  “We could slow em down some,” Sye jerked his head towards the Scourge riders who were growing larger with each heartbeat.

  “You wanna die, kid?”

  “They killed my Ma,” he replied, his voice flat and even. He didn’t sound anything like the love-struck fool he’d seen only a few days before, “I’ve seen the things they do. I’m not like them… I’m not…”

  The riders were getting close enough to make out their black sashes billowing in the wind. They were riding harder now.

  “No one is saying you are.”

  Sye jerked his head towards the approaching riders, “They are. That was why they kept me alive, cos they thought I could be like them.”

  “We’re all capable of evil, but this ain’t the time to discuss it. We need to talk about a lot of things, but not here and certainly not now.”

  “A lot of things?” Sye tilted his head.

  The kid had barely said a word since he’d cut him free. Now, with ten fanatics riding them down he’d decided it was time to get all conversational.

  “Sye, pull your gun out and die or get riding and live, maybe. There ain’t time for anything else!”

  “You talk to me like you know me,
but I ain’t ever seen you before. Why’s that?”

  “Of course you’ve…” the words died on his lips.

  There was no deceit in either Sye’s voice or his soul. As far as he was concerned he’d never seen him before in his life. Maybe that was due to one too many blows to the head recently. Maybe. But he didn’t think so.

  “Long story.”

  Sye shrugged, pulled out his looted pistol and started firing at the approaching Scourge riders. They were far too far away for a handgun to hit anything, but a couple of them wheeled away all the same. For an instant, it appeared the shots had spooked them, but the riders who’d slowed just pulled rifles from their scabbards and kept on coming.

  “I’m not like them…”

  “No, you’re nothing like them. You’re going to be dead.”

  He turned Silver and headed after the women. After a moment or two he looked around and found Sye hunched low in the saddle behind him.

  “We could lead them off!” Sye shouted.

  “They wouldn’t follow! They don’t want us!”

  He didn’t know for sure, but he didn’t want to take the risk. If they peeled off and the Scourge didn’t follow, the raiders would be between them and the women. As it was the bastards would have to get through Sye and him first and if that happened they could slow them down enough for the women to get away.

  It wasn’t much of a deal, but the girls would at least get safely to Hawker’s Drift.

  All they had to do was keep riding west as hard as they could and make sure they didn’t stop for any damn thing.

  *

  He watched Laura’s horse go down in a helpless sickening trance.

  One moment they were riding hard ahead of them, kicking up dust and keeping their distance from their pursuers, the next her horse stumbled, its legs buckling before it ploughed into the dirt, throwing the girl forward to tumbled through the long bleached grass.

  He and Sye were between the women and the Scourge. They’d been riding hard for over an hour and Silver’s flanks were slick with sweat. He pushed his horse on even harder, resisting the temptation to look over his shoulder.

  They’d been pulling away from the raiders a little and he was starting to think they were all going to make it. There was more cultivated land blurring past them, plus a few distant homesteads that appeared undamaged. They were closing on the town and he didn’t think the Scourge riders would risk going on much further. Now Laura had gone down and they would see it as their chance.

  The women were pulling their horses around, while Laura was motionless in the grass. Her horse was thrashing about and unable to stand, it must have caught its foot in a hole. The rest of them might make it to Hawker’s Drift, but Laura’s horse wouldn’t. He knew a broken leg when he saw one.

  “Keep riding!” he screamed, “Keep riding! I’ll get her.”

  He didn’t know if they could hear him over the thundering of Silver’s hooves, but if they did, they sure weren’t paying him a lot of heed. Sally and Dorry had both leapt from their horses and were crouching over the stricken girl.

  They just needed to get Laura onto another horse, it didn’t matter whose, and they could still keep enough of a gap between themselves and the Scourge raiders.

  But they weren’t getting Laura onto a horse.

  Sally and Dorry were couching over the girl, while Cailyn and Nicole remained mounted, looking dumbly down. No one seemed to be paying much attention to the killers on their heels.

  A sick knot of dread hardened in his guts.

  He pushed Silver as hard as he could.

  By the time he reined in the horse and jumped from his saddle he reckoned he had three or four minutes till the Scourge were close enough to open up on them. Sye was about thirty seconds behind him. Silver might be a hungry horse but he was a damn fast one too.

  “We need to get her on a horse!”

  “Don’t think she can,” Dorry swallowed, looking up at him. She was holding Laura’s hand; the girl was winter-white and visibly shaking. Sally stepped aside so he could see for himself.

  “Shit,” he cursed.

  Laura’s right leg had snapped and a jagged white bone was jutting through her skin below the knee.

  Sye appeared at his side and they exchanged a look. The young man turned back towards the Scourge, pulled out his revolver and started reloading it.

  “What do we do?” Dorry asked.

  “We have to get her on a horse!”

  “It’ll kill her!” Sally shot back.

  “So will staying here.”

  He looked back over his shoulder, the Scourge were coming in fast in a line, surging through the long grass. Sye was looking at them too as he stood over Laura’s screaming horse, gun held at his side.

  “We can’t leave her,” Dorry insisted, perhaps seeing the idea flicker across his features.

  “No…” he whispered, then spun around to face Sye.

  “Wait!”

  Sye already had the revolver raised and he shot the horse in the head at the same instant he’d called out. The shot echoed across the empty grass and sent a handful of crows screeching up into the empty blue sky.

  It also made the horses bolt.

  Silver, who was well used to the sound of gunfire, flicked his ears and snorted, but Dorry and Sally’s mounts were startled enough to pelt away and Cailyn had to battle hers to keep it under control. Sye’s horse must have been well used to the sounds of battle as he stayed close to Silver.

  “Oh…” was all that Sye managed to say.

  He grabbed Silver’s reins and thrust them at Sally.

  “Ride!”

  “What about you?”

  He was too busy pulling his rifle from its scabbard to answer.

  “You can’t face them all down!” Dorry shouted, following him.

  “Get out of here, all of you!”

  After slinging the rifle over his shoulder, he bent down and scooped Laura up as carefully as he could. She screamed, though it was only for a few seconds before passing out. By the time he laid her against the stomach of her dead horse the Scourge were almost within rifle range and nobody had moved.

  “I’ll slow them down, we haven’t got enough horses to outrun them now. Go!”

  Sye pulled a rifle from the scabbard of his own horse and gave the reins to Dorry, who looked wildly from one man to the other.

  “I ain’t going anywhere neither.”

  “For fuck’s sake,” he almost screamed at her, “you know what they’ll do to you!”

  Dorry pulled a rifle from Nicole’s horse and Sally looked like she was going to do the same.

  He shook his head and gripped her by the arms, “These two need you,” he jerked his head towards Cailyn and Nicole who were both white with fear, their eyes darting between them and the rapidly approaching Scourge riders.

  Sally’s eyes were on the riders too, but unlike Nicole and Cailyn there was no fear in her eyes. Just hatred. There were still splatters of Leland Cave’s dried blood on her arms and dress and he was sure there were some on her soul too.

  “Get them to safety, get them the Hawker’s Drift, please.”

  Sally swallowed and nodded, pulling her eyes from the Scourge. She dropped Silver’s reins and instead boosted herself cleanly into the saddle of Sye’s horse, “You might need your horse.”

  “When you get to town,” he said quickly and without the need for thought, “find a woman called Molly McCrea. Tell her I love her.”

  Sally cocked her head and a faint smile played across her face.

  “Tell her your fuckin’ self,” she replied before wheeling Silver around and heading off towards the west with Nicole and Cailyn on her tail.

  Sye and Dorry were already kneeling behind Laura’s horse, the unconscious girl between them, their rifles raised towards the approaching Scourge.

  He put a round into the chamber and joined them.

  The Widow

  Darkness was creeping closer.

&nbs
p; Not just in the periphery of her vision to frame Blane’s snarling face, but in her mind too. An endless corridor where the unrelenting pressure on her throat was slamming one door shut after the other. She was aware her fists were pummelling him and her legs were trying to push him off, but she was too weak and he was too strong. Not to mention too mad.

  She was going to die.

  On the floor of someone else’s home in this strange little town so far from anywhere. The life choked out of her by the lunatic who’d killed Tom. Would they put her in the ground next to him? Probably not. He’d be pissed about Amos anyway. Who wants to spend eternity next to someone who’s pissed at you?

  Fuck that.

  She bit him. Her teeth finding his right wrist and clamping down as hard as she could and not letting go even when blood spurted into her mouth.

  “Bitch!” Blane screamed, the pressure on her throat released as he tried to rip his hand from her mouth.

  Stars exploded in her head as he punched her with his left hand. She gasped from the blow and he managed to yank his wrist from her teeth. He rocked backwards, pulling his left fist back to punch again. Her knee was suddenly free enough to piston into his groin.

  She wriggled out from under him as he howled in pain. His gun was halfway to the front door and she twisted onto all fours and scrambled towards it.

  Blane’s hand clamped around her ankle and pulled her back.

  “Why don’t you just fuck off!” she screamed, kicking back with her free leg. There was a satisfying crunch as the heel of her boot connected with Blane’s face. When he didn’t let go of her ankle she kicked again, but this time he was expecting it and twisted out of the way.

  She stretched for the gun, her fingers brushing the handle, but Blane yanked her back before she could get a hold of the weapon.

  “Gonna cut you into pieces bitch…” Blane’s voice was wet and thick, but she could still hear the gibbering madness in it well enough.

  She focussed on the gun. If she looked back she was finished. He’d drawn a knife from his belt, she didn’t need to look to know. His face would be covered in blood and his eyes would be bulging like a mad dog’s. If she looked, he would reel her in and start cutting pieces off her.