by Tonia Brown
I was certain there was a lot more to it than that. I didn’t press the issue. “What happens now?”
“Now would be the moment I wish you good luck.” He lifted his hand, waving two fingers in the direction of the barn. After this, he spun on his heel and headed back to the gate, leaving me standing in the field alone. Without wishing me good luck, I should add.
One of the men stepped up to the fence and pulled the pen on the gate near the barn. It opened in a slow, ominous swing. The barn door slid wide allowing a rev to leap out into the corral. The beast paused in the pen, wildly glancing about as if confused by even being there. The thing was my size and fairly fresh. If I had to guess I would say it was one of Dillon’s special made revs, for I could see no sign of injury or rotting that usually came with a natural rev. As if there was anything natural about the things.
It caught sight of me across the field and hissed. Then it came for me, crouching to all fours as it galloped across the empty space between us. I backed up, bracing myself for the impact and searching desperately for anything I could use as a weapon. Thankfully, a rock the size of my fist rested on the ground no more than a few yards from me. The rev was on me in moments, snapping his teeth just inches from my face. I collapsed and rolled to the right, grabbing up the rock as I passed it. The rev lurched for me again, clawing at my outstretched arm. I swept my left leg under the beast, knocking it off of its feet. The thing toppled over, falling with a grunt to my right. Swinging the rock hard, I brought it down on the rev’s head, over and over, bashing the thing’s skull into a messy pulp.
Somewhere over the sound of my heart beating in my own ears, I heard a cheer rise from all around me.
“Enough!” Dillon shouted.
The applause fell quiet as I scrambled to my feet and put some distance between the now dead thing and myself. The sounds of the farm were gone, as were the noises of construction. I looked up to find the fence surrounded by Dillon’s men, every face smiling and excited. Son of a bitch if they weren’t enjoying the show.
“Matthews!” Dillon barked. “Get that corpse off of the field. Bradley, Jonson! Do a sweep of the area and get rid of everything not nailed down.” His face was pinched tight, as if he were sucking on something sour. It seems he didn’t enjoy my performance as much as his men. “Let’s make sure our friend here doesn’t have a weapon next time. That was far too easy.”
Easy? Easy was easy for him to say. He wasn’t the one wrestling the undead. I clutched my rock and gasped for breath while the designated men raced around me. Soon enough, they dragged the undead from the field and cleaned up every stone, branch, twig and weed within the fenced off area. One of the men even demanded the rock I held. I begrudgingly handed it over. This left me nothing to fight with. Nothing aside from my own fists.
“Now,” Dillon said in a much better mood now. “Let’s try that again, shall we?”
The barn door opened again, letting out another fresh rev. This one wasted no time in coming after me, streaking across the field like a bat out of hell. I took off as well, trying to keep out of arms reach of the bastard. The men bordering the fence starting hooting and hollering, some cheering for the rev and, surprisingly, more than a few cheering for me. Sweet Jesus, what a nightmare. An undead monster on my tail, not a weapon in sight, and a crowd of men watching it all. Lucky for me, this wasn’t the first time I had been in this situation, save the audience.
Gathering my courage, I stopped cold and tossed out an elbow in the direction of the oncoming rev. The beast ran into my elbow full force, shattering its nose in a burst of black blood and knocking the thing off of its feet. I grabbed the tumbling rev by the ears and twisted hard, snapping its neck. It went still as it slipped from my hands to the dirt.
The crowd erupted in cheers once more.
I stood by the rev, catching my breath as the men applauded around me. Slowly, their thunderous applause faded to the sound of one man clapping on his own.
“Excellent,” Dillon said. He stopped clapping and clutched the fence in his fists. “Much better. Still, I think you can do even better than that.” He glanced around until he spied what he was looking for. “Thomas, hand me that rope.”
The man in question tossed Dillon a length of rope.
Dillon caught it and headed back through the fence, toward me. “Someone get this stinking pile of garbage out of here.”
Kenneth dashed forward, racing past his master to drag the corpse from the field.
“Turn around, Theo,” Dillon said.
I did a little spin, turning a circle in place as I threw my hand up at the men. They laughed in response to my antics. What can I say? I was full of myself after killing two revs without a gun or blade.
“Smart ass,” Dillon said. “Face the barn and clasp your hands behind you.”
I did as he commanded, standing in place with my hands behind my back. Dillon stepped up wrapped the rope about my wrists. A hushed whisper went up across the gathered men. I assumed he was binding me for our trip back to the cellar. I was wrong about that. Oh so very wrong.
“There,” Dillon said. He came around to face me. “That should be fair enough. Ready for another go?”
“You can’t expect me to fight like this,” I said, raising my hands as best I could. Which was to say, barely at all.
Dillon drew close to me and lowered his voice as he said, “Good.” And he left me like that.
The men continued whispering, and I caught snippets of words like ‘unfair’ and ‘cruel’ and ‘Jackson’s a dead man.’ I stood in the field and waited for Dillon’s next command, as well as my own demise. A third rev burst out of the barn and down the corral toward the battlefield, full tilt. This was followed by another one.
And another one.
I did the only thing I could do. I ran. Around and around the field I ran, with the revs tight on my heels the whole while. The crowd began to cheer and shout. Some for the revs, some for me, and some against Dillon for making the odds too hard.
“You shouldn’t have tied him up!” one man yelled. “Those things will eat his face off!”
“Good!” Dillon shouted in return. “I think he can handle a little nibble. I did.”
So this was his plan. Disfigure me like he was disfigured the day I burned his town to the ground. I mulled over this petty revenge as I ran along with three revs chasing me. Of course, I couldn’t run forever. I had to act. I slowed up a bit in my sprint, readying myself for what needed to be done. I skidded to a halt and stuck out my leg, tripping the two closest and fastest revs near me. They tumbled into a tangled mess a few yards ahead of me. A cheap trick, true, but it got the job done. The third rev was still coming at me while the others untangled their undead limbs, so I tucked into a ball and waited. The undead bastard flew ass over teakettle, sailing over me and landing face down in the dirt. I got to my knees and scrambled until I straddled the thing’s back. It writhed under me, clawing at me while I scooted my rump along the length of its body. When I was straddling its shoulders, I lay back and unfolded my legs from under me, grabbing either side of the beast’s head between my ankles. It landed a bite in the soft flesh of my right ankle, but I ignored the pain as I bore into my grip. Twisting hard, I snapped the rev’s neck with a resounding pop and severed it’s spinal cord. The beast went slack under me, twice dead by my hands. Or rather, feet.
A great whoop went up over the crowd.
I don’t know what got them so excited, I still had two more of the things to kill.
The pair of revs snarled and hissed at me together and surged forward as one. I scurried backward across the empty field, wondering both how in the seven hells I was going to survive this one, and praying that my death would be swift and merciful. When the pair lunged for me, I rolled away, spinning belly to back a few times until I put a few yards between us. The revs had once again gotten jumbled together. This was nothi
ng new to me. I had used their lack of grace against them many times when trapping or tracking the damnable things. Get two or more revs close enough and they will trip over each other to get at you. Sometimes they just trip over their fool selves. These two were particularly graceful, as ole Ben would say, which worked to my advantage. As they squirmed apart once more, I backed up against the fence and worked my way to my feet. To my surprise, the men nearest me reached down to help me stand. I tossed a glance Dillon’s way expecting a grimace or a sneer.
He only smiled. Of course he smiled, this was what he wanted. His men focused and involved. The question now was why? I couldn’t fathom an answer. Not only because I didn’t have enough clues, but also because I was fighting for my life. I nodded to the men who helped right me, and took off running once more. A difficult feat considering my fresh ankle wound. No matter. I did my best to ignore the pain in favor of not having my guts tossed about the place like so much garland.
The revs, free of one another again, snarled and nipped at my heels as I hot footed it around the ring. I was running out of options. What in God’s name was I going to do now? I spied the open gate nearest the barn and the corral beyond, when an idea struck me. There wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that it would work, yet I had little choice. I ran to the gate and right into the corral. The revs followed me slavering at my back as I came to a stop in front of the barn door. I spun about and roared at the top of my lungs, hollering as loud as my tired body could. The crowd went silent at this, not sure how to react to my cry. The revs paused but a second, shocked by this sudden change in their prey, which was all the window I needed. I launched myself into the pair, pushing past them as I exited through the corral and out into the field again. This elicited another whoop from the gathered men. I doubled back and caught the edge of the gate with my shoulder, closing it as quick as I could. Though, not fast enough.
One of the revs, not as distracted as his brother, thrust an arm at me, clawing me up my left side as I pushed hard on the gate. That arm waggled and writhed, and I pushed harder and harder. Finally, I laid in hard enough, snapping the beast’s arm off at the elbow and slamming the gate closed. The latch fell into place automatically and I collapsed into the dirt. The air thundered with the cries of the hungry revs as well as the excited crowd. Warm wet pooled at my left side. My ankle throbbed. Pain came to me in distant sparks. I was too tired to care about any of it. Too damned tired and too damned old.
A shadow fell over me, blocking out what was left of the setting sun.
“Well played,” Dillon said.
I grunted. It was the best I could do.
“This is perfect,” Dillon said. “You are just what I needed to make this whole thing complete. Kenneth, Bradley, get him to Chambers. And be quick about it. We don’t want our star fighter bleeding out before the fun even begins.”
“Yes, sir,” the men said.
I closed my tired eyes as they lifted me from the blood soaked ground. After hanging in that place for a week, then having my ass handed to me by five revs, I was just about as tired as a man could be. The sweet oblivion of sleep beckoned for me. I decided to answer her call as the pair carted me off to the cellar once more.
Part Three
Gathering Storm
Sam
“Why are we going south?” I said. “Dillon and his men went that way.” I pointed behind us, to the direction I had last seen Dillon’s caravan traveling.
“So you said,” Mab replied.
“Are we going after Mr. Theo or not?” I said.
“We will,” Mab said.
Her horse whinnied nervously. Mab stroked Lilly’s nose.
“I know girl,” Mab said “I don’t like it either.”
“Don’t like what?” Stretch said, drawing his pistol and glancing about. “What does that horse know?”
Mab barked a short laugh. “She knows I don’t like walking when I have a perfectly good horse to ride.”
“Oh, well then.” Stretch returned his pistol to its holster. “She’s right about that. Neither do I.”
I came to a stop, dropped my pack and said, “Then why don’t you get on your horse and go do whatever you need to do.” I knew I was pouting, but darn it! I thought we were going to rescue Mr. Theo. Not deal with her personal business. “Stretch and I will go and find Mr. Theo.”
“Sure, fine,” Mab said as she stopped and faced me. “That sounds great. Take all of the weapons with you too.”
I was shocked by this suggestion. I searched her face for any sign of jest, and found none. “Um, all right. We will.”
“Good. So, how many guns do you have, Stretch?”
The man scratched his head as he came up beside of me. “Dunno. I got old Bessie here.” He patted the pistol at his side. “Two rifles, now that Dave is dead. And another pair of pistols from Gerald. That’s, hrm, one plus the rifles, plus the—”
“That’s five guns,” Mab said for him. “And how many blades?”
“I got the one in my boot and the two I got off the men and the one I let Sam here borrow.”
I clutched at the dagger strapped to my waistband. What was she driving at?
“Good,” Mab said. “That’s five guns and a handful of close combat weapons. Nice. Even with just two of you, you should get pretty far with the guns, if you have the element of surprise and … oh, wait. How much ammunition did you say you had?”
“I didn’t say,” Stretch said.
Mab frowned at him. “How much?”
“Ah, right, um… I got two bullets in Bessie. Three in my rifle. Dave’s rifle was empty and Gerald’s pistols had two each.”
I lost my bravado at that news. This was where she was headed all along.
Mab gave a low whistle. “Nine shots? Well then, Mr. Sam Martin.” She paused and nodded her head to me in acquiescence. “If you think you can storm the castle with nine shots and a couple of pig stickers, so be it. Take the weapons.” She turned in place and left me standing there to consider her offer.
“Mab,” I said. “I didn’t mean to doubt you but I don’t understand why we are going this way. When we packed this morning you said we were going to prepare for our attack on Dillon and his men.”
“We are,” she said.
“How? By letting them get away?”
“Sam,” she said with a sigh. “They won’t get away. The Badlands might be enormous, but Dillon has a tight area of operations. He will take Jackson back to one of his townships. We will find them. I promise.”
“How many townships are there? How far apart are they? Will we even know where to start?”
“Iron Station,” Stretch said.
Mab and I both looked at him.
“What?” Stretch said. “I thought that much was obvious. I’d take him to Iron Station.”
“Why?” I said.
“Because it’s the only town surrounded by a ten foot stone wall,” Mab said. “Nice thinking there, Stretch.”
Stretch gave a wide grin. “Why thank you, darlin’.”
Mab tugged on the horse’s reins and got to moving again.
“I take it we aren’t going to Iron Station,” I said.
“Nope,” Mab said.
“Then where are we going?”
“To see a man about a dog.”
Stretch groaned as he rubbed at his long face. “Aw, damn, honeybunch. You don’t mean him.”
“That’s exactly who I mean.”
I glanced between the pair of them. “Who?”
“But not him,” Stretch said.
“Yes, him,” Mab said.
Stretch grabbed her by the arm and stopped her again. “Mab, darlin’, you don’t really wanna talk to him again, do you? I mean, not after last time.”
“Why wouldn’t I? I’m not the one who almost broke his nose.”
“That was an accident. You know I am all fists and elbows when I get fired up.”
“Then don’t get fired up around him. Simple as that.”
“Around who?” I said.
She waved me off. “Besides, do you know anyone else within a two day walk from here who does what he does? Because I am all open for suggestions.”
Stretch grumbled to himself, yet didn’t answer her.
“Gosh darnit!” I shouted. “Who are we going to see?”
“A man about a damned dog,” Stretch said, then walked on ahead without us.
Winking at me, Mab pulled on the horse’s lead and followed Stretch.
I fell in line with the others. “What does that even mean?”
“It means we’re going to see Mab’s feller,” Stretch said.
“Her fellow?” I said. “You mean her lover?”
Mab laughed out loud so suddenly, her horse jerked on her lead and whinnied at the sound. She reached out and patted Lilly’s mane to calm the animal. “Sorry girl.” Mab chuckled a little. “Lover? No. He is just a friend.”
“A boyfriend,” Stretch said in an obvious pout.
Mab rolled her eyes. “He’s not my boyfriend. Grow up. You’re acting like a child.”
Stretch mumbled something, fussing under his breath.
Ah, Stretch was envious of this Dermot fellow. I wasn’t new to this kind of resentment. The bordello taught me much when it came to matters of the heart, or rather matters of lust. It seemed jealousy knew no age, no borders, nor appropriate times to rear its head.
“He gets a little protective of me around certain men,” Mab added.
“I sure as hell do,” Stretch said. “I know I ain’t your man or nothin’, but I don’t like the way Dermot looks at you.”
“He is perfectly harmless,” Mab said. “He is also perfectly supplied in just the way we need to be.”
“And what way is that?” I said.