What Comes After (Book 1): A Shepherd Cometh

by Peter Carrier

  Just before the watcher on the roof completed his turn in their direction, Tom and Janessa stepped behind the small shed and out of his sight. The Shepherd knew some few minutes would pass before the guard turned away again, so he thought this a prudent time to test Janessa's resolve. He needed to know where she stood on certain matters. In this way, he would know what action would be appropriate where she was concerned.

  “Not worried 'bout someone seein' us back here?” She kept her voice low, but did not whisper.

  Tom shook his head. “Not really, since everyone's busy. If they do spot us, they should recognize you and let you about your business, right?”

  “And if they don't? What if they come over here to see if I need help or ask what I'm plannin' on doin' with you? What then?” Jannesa was recovering her nerve.

  The Shepherd fixed her with a look. “Then I hope they're not friends of yours.”

  She was only partly successful in suppressing her shudder. “What if there's more than one?”

  “Are you asking if there's some number that will prevent me from completing my task, or do you want to know the specific plan for any given number of possible hostiles?” He wondered if the mechanical methodology of his clinical reply chilled her as much as it had him the first time he had acted in such a manner. “Angie and Ben are not staying here, simple as that. I'd rather get them out and walk away peacefully, if that's possible. I don't think it's going to pan out that way, though. If I need to shoot up the place in order to get to them and leave a trail of bodies in my wake on the way out, then so be it. One way or another, they are leaving with me and that's all there is to it.”

  Janessa's breath caught in her throat and it was moment before she could speak. When she did, her voice was as shaken. “Nuts to this. You want to get that woman and her kid, fine. But I'm not helping you kill who knows how many of my people in the process.” Having spoken, she placed Tom's rifle against the wall of the shed and made to leave.

  “You think walking away now keeps your hands clean?” She took another step, not looking back at him. “How many of your meals had meat in them?” She faltered at the corner of the shed.

  Tom glanced at the watcher, figured the man was another two minutes from turning to again survey the north side. “You going to tell me you didn't know? Maybe that it was different, because you were doing it to survive?”

  He saw her fist clenched. When Janessa turned to face him again, he could see the anger and frustration on her face, mixing with her fear. “How is what you're planning any better? You're talking about going in there and killing everyone in sight to free some people you say you just met. How is that the right thing to do?”

  Tom shook his head. “You're not hearing me. I told you what I was prepared to do, not that I wanted it to happen that way. Quite the opposite, in fact. How I see it, the right thing to do is get Angie and Ben away from this place and these people. That woman and her boy clearly do not belong here. As far as what, or should I say who, else I find in the barn, that'll be a matter to take up with the Old Man and whomever else is in the house. Just as you didn't seek permission to grind up and eat a person at breakfast this morning, I'm not asking your permission to do what I need to do. If you can reconcile that, we'll be on the move presently. If not, best be on your way.”

  The Shepherd's tone brooked no argument, but Janessa was wrestling with the enormity of what he had said. Still frustrated and searching for a way out, she said, “You don't need me to do any of that. The barn's not locked, so you don't need help getting in. You'll find them easy enough once you're inside. Unless there's something you're not telling me, you can be in and out before anyone else knows something is up. Why bring me out even this far?”

  “You forgot something.” Tom knew the time for them to go was fast approaching. He had one card left to play, and he hoped it worked.

  “What's that?”

  “Toby's in the barn. I was serious when I said I'd rather not hurt anyone if I could avoid it. Figure that's more likely to happen if you're with me.”

  Janessa's shoulders slumped in defeat. She closed her eyes and sighed, resigned to her fate. “They won't let you go or forgive what you've done. They'll try to stop you. If they can't stop you, they'll track you down. Kill you, probably.”

  The guard on the roof turned to resume the northerly portion of his watch. “That's alright. God forgives. Man accepts. Now, accept that this is going to happen and let's be done with it.”

  Tom watched Janessa pick up his rifle, then the two of them moved around the corner of the shed. Brisk strides quickly covered the ground between the outbuilding and the barn. Standing before the large doors of the barn, Tom grabbed the metal handle with both hands and heaved the panel aside, feeling it drift shakily, almost lazily, along the runner at the top of the frame. When he had pulled it open enough for a person to enter, the Shepherd looked at Janessa. She bit her lower lip, hesitating just a moment before finding her resolve. Before the young man could say anything, she moved around him and slipped through the opening, into the darkened space beyond. Tom followed her after a quick check of the surroundings.

  The barn appeared in need of some repair from the outside; siding stained with age and water mark, warped windows, missing shingles on the roof. The doors, both loft and personnel, were obviously a poor fit in their respective frames. In general, the structure was ill at ease and had seen better days, even when care and maintenance were regular visitors, not occasional guests.

  The inside told a different story. While the floorboards of the barn were placed there untold decades earlier and the beams were similarly aged, the stalls lining the east and west walls had been modified. They were now short cells of wood of relatively recent construction. Built in rows, each unit was completely closed off from the ones adjacent, sharing only walls between them.

  The open door vented some of the stink in the place, but not all of it. Dawn was creeping into the building through windows open along the length of the wall opposite the door, providing enough light to gauge the general contents of the ground floor. To the left of the door was farming equipment; scythes, hoes, shovels, rakes, coiled rope and more. Some hung from hooks on the wall and the rest lay piled neatly on the floor or lay against the wall. To the right, several makeshift tables held cups, plates, bowls and the other trappings of meal-time. It was at one of these tables, quartering carrots and cucumbers, that they saw Toby.

  Tom saw mixed relief and confusion on the young man's face. Toby looked from Janessa to Tom and back again, his hands ceasing their movement as his brain struggled to make sense of this new arrival. Equal parts apprehension and elation, Toby smiled at the young woman. “You got him.”

  He paled when he saw her expression turn sour. “Nope. He got me,” was her reply.

  When he put the knife down on the table, Janessa called to him softly. “Don't.”

  “'Don't' what?” Toby asked, looking from her to the Shepherd, who was pulling the door closed.

  She sighed. “Don't go for your gun, don't argue... just, don't. Okay?” Janessa watched the younger man, saw the set of his jaw and the tension in his shoulders. “Please?”

  The door rumbled closed with a soft thud and Tom approached Toby, hands empty and palms forward. “No one needs to get hurt.”

  “Like hell they don't,” Toby said through clenched teeth. “I don't know what you said or did to her, but I swear to God-”

  Tom cut him off while continuing to advance. “I'll save you the oath you're about to take. I haven't done a thing to Janessa except tell her what I'm going to do, which I'll repeat for you now.” The Shepherd saw Toby glance at the rifle on the tabletop, not even a yard from the pile of cut vegetables at the young mans hands.

  “Not worth it,” Tom said matter-of-factly, still moving. “Even if you get hands on it before I reach you, you'll only get one chance. This close, it'll have to be a snapshot, so there's a real chance you miss.”

  “Someone'll hear it, c
ome runnin'.” Slowly but smoothly, Toby began sliding his right hand toward his weapon while leaving his left near the knife.

  “Won't make you any less dead. I suspect Janessa over there will react strongly in light of your demise, and I'll probably need to put her down, too.” Here, just a step away, Tom paused. He waited for the other man's concentration to break before taking the last step.

  When Toby glanced at Janessa, Tom lunged forward and grabbed the young man's right wrist. To his credit, Toby thought to grab for the knife before being wrenched away from the table. He wasn't quick enough and only managed to knock the bladed implement clear of the cutting area, triggering a small avalanche of mixed, uncut vegetables to follow the knife to the floor.

  Having thrown Toby clear of the table, the Shepherd picked up the young man's rifle and emptied it's contents onto the floorboards, brass mixing with orange and green on the aged wood. As he had done to Janessa's rifle, Tom removed the bolt from this weapon and put it in one of his pockets. While Toby coughed and slowly pulled himself into a seated position, the Shepherd moved so he was standing over the other man.

  The Shepherd asked Toby, “Got that out of your system?”

  Still visibly frustrated, Toby nodded nonetheless.

  “Good.” Tom looked down at the young man, who was still coughing quietly. “Now, I'm looking to take Angie and Ben away. Given the nature of your community and how it operates, they don't belong here.” He paused. “You planning on stopping me?”

  Toby sneered. “How would I do that?”

  Tom shrugged. “Where there's a will, there's a way.” He paused, waiting for additional input from Toby. “I'm taking that as a 'no', then.”

  The Shepherd took a few steps toward the row of cells and stopped, turning back toward the still sitting Toby. “Come on,” he said to the young man.

  Toby rose warily. “What are you gonna do?”

  Tom arched an eyebrow. “The specifics are up to you. Can't leave you out here in case you decide to play hero, so I was planning on putting you in one of these cells. You'd probably prefer an empty one.” He gestured to the hall between the cells, using the other man's rifle to point. “Only thing left to decide is whether you're walking on your own or if I'm dragging you. Which is it going to be?”

  Toby leveled his shoulders and puffed out his chest. Voice full of bravado, he proclaimed, “Man, I ain't goin' nowhere. Let's see you get your ass over here and try-”

  The Shepherd looked at Janessa the moment the other man began speaking and waving his fist. Seeing the young woman content to watch the action, he returned to Toby. Two steps brought him within striking range, raising the barrel of the weapon over his left shoulder. Toby had time enough to bring his arms up, but not far enough. Tom's third step saw him bringing the butt of the rifle down, swiftly cracking the young man in the mouth. Toby cried out and fell back, hands waving in a vain effort to ward off additional blows. The Shepherd raised and lowered the rifle twice more in quick succession, the butt of the weapon striking the young man again; first in the head and then in the ribs.

  When Toby began to curl into a fetal position, Tom discarded the rifle and grabbed the young man. One hand on his throat and the other on his shirt, the Shepherd yanked Toby to his feet and slammed him against the wall. When he felt Toby was again supporting his own weight, Tom grabbed the young man by the ear and twisted it sharply.

  Toby cried out again and grabbed the Shepherd's hand with both of his own. Tom took long strides to the cells and then down the hall that divided them, dragging the young man behind him. “I'll be right back,” Tom called to Janessa.

  Near the end of the row, he found an open chamber. Tom scanned it quickly and found the small room empty. Toby struggled in his grip, grabbing half-heartedly at the hand twisting his ear. “Let go, man. I get it,” he said weakly.

  The Shepherd pulled forward sharply, wrenching the young man's ear painfully. Toby went with the motion, stepping into the cell as quickly as the small space would allow. When Tom released his ear, Toby's hand reflexively grabbed it. The two men stared at each other: one having been beaten into submission and now hunched in a cell, the other standing tall and confidant on the outside of that same cell. Tom appreciated the irony of the situation and could only hope it was not entirely lost on Toby. The Shepherd dismissed that sentiment when he closed the door with a thud. The quiet thump of the bolt sliding in place reminded him that his business here was far from finished, however.

  2.8

  Tom found Janessa exactly where he left her. She looked at him and spoke with equal parts accusation and shock. “You said you wouldn't hurt him if I came with you.”

  Retrieving Toby's rifle from the pile of loose vegetables on the floor, Tom walked to the far corner and propped the weapon against the wall, then moved an empty barrel in front of it. Crossing back to the tables, he removed the bolt for that rifle from his pocket and buried it in a pile of cukes still atop the cutting surface. While so doing, he responded to Janessa. “I said I didn't want to hurt anyone if I didn't need to, and that was more likely to happen if you came with me. When push came to shove, you didn't offer a lot of help, though.” Fixing her with a level stare, he waited several heartbeats before continuing. “Now, we're headed to the house. If you can't-”

  “Whoa, wait a sec,” Janessa interrupted. “What happened to you coming in here, getting the woman and her kid, then us being on our separate ways?”

  “Change of plan. With an armed guard on the roof, we won't get very far once we're out in the fields. That's assuming they're both able to travel. There doesn't seem to be a way to the roof from in here, so I can't discretely remove him from the equation. No, the best way to ensure we get out of this alive and well is to have Shane call everyone else off. And to do that, we need to talk to him. Might be able to get Greg back, as well.” His plan outlined, Tom waited for Janessa's response. I hope she doesn't have to join Toby, he thought. Or worse.

  He waited while she discovered and considered her options. “What if I won't go with you?”

  “There's another empty cell back there. If you resist, you think you'll fare any better than Toby?” Tom knew she would not, but awaited her rebuttal, anyway.

  Her face darkened. She took a couple of breaths to steady herself and Tom cut her off before she spoke again. “Let's be honest, Janessa: you're here because I allowed it.” He raised his hand to stem the outrage no doubt ready to pour forth. “I had the drop on you in the forest, but didn't put you down. I know that must chap your ass, but it doesn't make it any less true. The last few minutes have been easier with you here, but I could have managed without you. So for the time being, if you'd like to keep your freedom, you need to stay with me. If you're staying with me, you're doing as I say. Otherwise, you can wait here. I'll deal with you and Toby when I come back for Ben and Angie.”

  She shook her head. “Shoulda known,” she said quietly.

  Tom pursed his lips. “Should've known what?”

  Janessa looked him in the eye. “That you'd act the same way when you're back was against the wall. You made it sound like I had a choice, but when I chose something that doesn't work for you, you turn to threats and violence. Really, it's your way or the highway. You talk a good game, but you're no different than the Old Man.” At this, Tom stiffened.

  In the quiet moment that followed, Janessa pressed just a bit further. “You're not going to talk to Shane, are you?”

  The Shepherd remained silent, eyes hooded in his long face.

  “Bet you never were.” She paused and laughed mirthlessly. “You're going to kill him. Everyone, actually. Right? You're going to kill everyone in the house, probably everyone on this farm.” Shaking her head, she finished. “You're exactly the same.”

  After a long pause, Tom finally responded. Time to show and prove, he thought. Still looking into Janessa's eyes, he said, “It's true that both of us understand the use of force as a tool, and it seems neither of us are afraid of using it wh
en necessary. And we're both men. Other than that, we're fundamentally different animals.” At this point, he began to walk around the table and cross the space between himself and the young woman. “I'll prove it to you, if you like.”

  He watched her stiffen, tensing for blows she had no doubt learned to anticipate from the 'betters' in her community. He watched her resolve waver with every step he took until at last he stood less than a foot from her. She was trembling, eyes wide and blinking rapidly as the fear of his proximity took hold. Gone was the defiant, know-it-all young woman who had judged him only a moment ago. In her place was a shaken girl awaiting punishment. He knew he had heard attention, but waited another few seconds. He watched her patiently.

  “Put down my rifle,” he told her softly.

  Janessa took a breath that hitched in her throat and shuddered. Without taking her eyes from the Shepherd, she did as she was bidden. Her shaking hands at her sides, she closed her eyes when she heard his next words. Tears streamed down her cheeks as he confirmed her fears, but she did not sob.

  “The Old Man would beat you if he were here, wouldn't he?”

  She nodded, her beauty marred by fright and sadness. The Shepherd drew the GP100 from its holster on his hip. Taking her right hand in his left, he brought them together between their stomachs. Terror melted from her features and was replaced by confusion. Janessa opened her eyes and watched Tom raise the barrel of the revolver, pressing it into the hollow behind his jaw. His eyes never left hers, not even after he let his own hands fall to his sides, leaving her in sole control of the pistol.

  He watched a range of emotions stream across her face; loathing, contempt, fear, disbelief, desperation, reluctance. Relief was the last to play on her features after ten long seconds. The Shepherd asked, “Still think we're the same?”

  “I don't know what to think,” she confessed.

  “Fair enough,” Tom said. “Just the same, I'll be taking back my pistol, now.” He reached between them gingerly, slowly pushing the revolver from his head and removing his sidearm from the young woman's grip. Her shoulders sagged and she slumped against the wall, as though the Shepherd had somehow taken her strength as well as his weapon.