by Tonia Brown
“Like fate?”
“Nah. Nothing so fancy. I just run with the wrong crowd.”
“You help her catch a lot of them?”
“Some. But only if they were, you know, bad men. Murderers and such.”
“You ever worry she’d come after you one day?”
Stretch let out a sharp bark of a laugh. “Ah, no. No one back east wants me. Trust me on that.”
I didn’t pry anymore, though that last statement stoked my curiosity even brighter. What got a man tossed over the line, or in some cases drove him to flee into the Badlands, was a delicate subject. Some folks wore it like a badge of honor. Some hid it like a shameful secret. But everyone knew not to outright ask anyone else. It was the only bit of etiquette in an otherwise untamed land.
When Mab finally did join us, she was red eyed and wiping at her runny nose. This surprised me. She was such a strong woman. Who knew biding her horse a temporary farewell would bring her to such tears? I didn’t think ill of her for it. In fact, it made me admire her more. Such tenderness under that strong will. The more I knew about her, the more I wanted to be just like her.
“You gonna be all—” Stretch started.
“Shut up,” Mab said.
He did, and just like that we were on our way to Truth.
The journey northward was three hard pressed days of near running. We camped in short spurts, taking it in paired turns to sleep a few scant hours. With some luck, we didn’t run into any rev. Stretch explained that the closer you got to Syndicate territory, the less likely you were to see any wandering undead. If Dillon was good at one thing, it was keeping the rev population in control. Mostly because he made the revs and kept them in pens.
By the end of the third day we were all exhausted but holding up well. We stopped once again for a brief nap by a thinly trickling stream. We ate a quick meal, talked a bit, then turned our attention to getting rest. It was my watch, but Mab seemed unable to sleep. She stoked a small fire as Stretch snored away.
“We should reach the main road soon,” she said.
“Aren’t you worried?” I said.
“Me? Nah.”
“You think someone will recognize you? Even without your horse?”
“I can dress the part when needed. You, on the other hand …”
“Me?” I said. “I’m an old hand at pretending I’m someone else. I fooled you and Stretch. A couple of men on the side of the road won’t be an issue.”
“I was thinking of Dillon, and that blonde hair. I’m worried if Dillon gets a glimpse of it, he will know who you are. Men are funny that way. They might not remember your face or your name, but they remember the color of your hair or the shape of your behind.”
I rolled a lock between by fingers. I had cut my hair to just below my ears before I headed out to the Badlands. Here, months later, it was nearly to my shoulders again. “Should I cut it shorter?”
Mab’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “I was thinking something else.”
That something else was most unexpected.
Neither of us got much sleep as she stayed up through my watch, and I stayed up through hers. By the time Stretch woke, we were both giggling and goofy from lack of sleep. He sat up and rubbed at his eyes.
“What’s with all the giggling?” he said. When his eyes landed on me, he did a comical double take. “Jesus H. Christ Almighty.”
Which set us to laughing again.
Stretch raised his finger at me. “What happened to your head?”
Suddenly self conscious, I touched my now darkened locks. “Mab did it. What do you think?”
The man studied me. “I like it. I mean, you’re a pretty blonde, but this kinda suits you.”
“Thanks.”
He drew closer, giving my new coif a perfunctory sniff. “Why does it smell like coffee?”
“Because it is coffee,” Mab said. “At least it has coffee in it. And other stuff.” She picked at my hair, pushing a stray lock over my ear. “It’s a special blend I use to darken my hair when I need to hide it. Sometime this red mop attracts too much attention.”
“I like your red mop,” Stretch said.
“I know,” Mab said.
“You aren’t going to do yours?” I said.
“No,” she said. “I don’t plan on sneaking around.”
Stretch and I glanced to one another in confusion.
“Say what now?” Stretch said.
That mischief returned to Mab’s eye. “I have a plan.”
Mab laid out her idea in a quick few words. When she was done, Stretch and I stared at her in silence.
“You’re joking,” he said.
“No,” Mab said. “I’m not.”
“You really expect me to just walk right on in there?”
“I do.”
“Alone?”
“Stretch, come on, you’re the only one that can do this. I am a bounty hunter. I have to be looking for someone. If I don’t have a target at Truth, I don’t have a reason to be there. You go in, we follow. I pretend I am looking for you. In the meantime, we can all scout the place. I find my target, you, and then we can regroup and sneak back later at night knowing exactly what we are dealing with rather than going in blind.”
Stretch looked doubtful. “I don’t know.”
“It makes sense,” I said.
“Of course it makes sense to you,” Stretch said. “You ain’t the one playing bait.”
Mab clasped her hands together, begging him to take part in her plan. “Come on. You said you wanted to help.”
“I don’t remember saying that.”
“It was implied.” She grinned at him, still holding out her hands.
Stretch stared at her hard, then rolled his eyes as he groaned. “I can’t believe I am agreeing to this.”
“Good man,” Mab said. “Of course that means you’ll need to leave ahead of us.”
“Right. I can’t arrive ahead of you if I don’t leave ahead of you.”
“Right.”
“Then this is goodbye.”
“Yeah.”
“Again.”
“Again.”
The pair stood facing one another in the growing light of the rising sun. Neither spoke. They didn’t have to speak. Something passed between them in that silence. Something that made me slightly uncomfortable. Something I wasn’t a part of. All at once I felt like an uninvited guest at a very private party. This was lovely and all, but it wasn’t getting my mentor out of the clutches of that maniac.
“Should I pack your things?” I said.
My words seemed to jolt them into movement. They pulled away from one another, as if an invisible thread between them had snapped, sending each of them recoiling back.
“No,” Stretch said. “No, no. I got it.”
I divvied out a third of the rations while Mab helped him gather his things. After a bit of morning ritual, and a quick breakfast, Stretch was ready to leave us.
“I’ll give you a few hours lead,” Mab said. “Then we’ll follow.”
“Sounds good. I’ll try to get a fair piece ahead of you two. What do I say when I get to Truth?”
“Tell them you want to join the Syndicate.”
Stretch wrinkled his nose. “Never thought I’d say those words.”
“Head north for another day and you should pick up the common road between Iron Station and Truth.”
“I know the way.”
“Stretch?” I said.
“Yes, ma’am?” he said.
“If you see my mentor, don’t tell him I am coming. I don’t want to… I mean…”
“You want it to be a surprise?”
“Sure. Something like that.” In truth, I didn’t want to disappoint Mr. Theo, should anything keep Mab and myself from reachi
ng Truth. Though it would take an act of God himself to keep that from happening.
“I reckon I can keep my trap shut.” Stretch shouldered his bag and stuck out his hand. “Well, then, Miss Maribel, it’s been good to see you again. If just for a little while.”
Mab grabbed his hand and pulled the man into a tight hug. “It’s always a pleasure to see you, hon.” She released him reluctantly, holding him at arm’s length. “And it won’t be long. We will be right on your heels. Half a day, tops.”
“Half a day,” Stretch said. “Tops.”
“Tops.”
That awkward moment returned, with the pair staring at one another with those love struck expressions. I cleared my throat, spurring them into action again. Stretch gave me a quick hug, turned on his heel, and stalked off into the morning. We sat down and watched him, together, in the quiet of the meadow, until he disappeared over a hill and was gone.
“Are we really going to just waltz into Truth?” I said.
“Yup,” she said.
“You’ve worked with Dillon before, haven’t you?”
“I wouldn’t say worked with. He’s assisted my capture of more than one criminal. He thinks of himself as a friend to those back east. As long as I am not after him, he is all smiles and help.” Mab snorted. “As if anyone needs his brand of help.”
“Do you think Stretch will be all right alone?”
She grew quiet again, her longing eyes searching the distance and answering my question.
“You should get some sleep,” I said. “I’ll wake you up in a few hours and we can get on the way.”
“Are you sure?” she said.
“Yeah. I owe you for letting me sleep in the other morning, anyways.”
Mab chuckled as she made herself comfortable on her bedroll. “Don’t let me sleep long. You need a nap too before we head back out.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I relaxed back, keeping an ear open for passing wildlife as well as the undead. Mab slept beside of me, fitfully, mumbling in her troubled sleep. While she was larger than life when awake, laying there sleeping she seemed so human, so fragile, so unlike my mentor. I wondered what life would be like under her tutelage. How different it would be to learn her trade. To seek and find condemned men in the name of justice, instead of chasing down the undead and making pelts of their skin, then burning their bones.
I wondered which job was more respectable.
As well as who was more respectable.
* * *
The common road turned out to be a busy place. Well, busy for the Badlands. It was a well beaten path that stretched as far as the eye could see in both directions. The road was dotted with travelers, in bunches of twos and fours, most heading toward the town of Truth, though there were the occasional folks heading in the other direction. We reached the road just a few hours before sundown, which meant we would have to pitch camp again, and soon. I thought it would be nice to camp under the watch of so many, thinking there was safety in numbers. Mab carefully explained this would be even more dangerous than camping out in the woods alone. Wild wolves and the undead were nothing when compared to the outlaws and criminals that belonged to the Syndicate. The same Syndicate that owned and traveled this road.
She also warned me to keep my mouth shut.
“Why?” I said.
“After Dermot,” she said, “I think it would be best if you let me do all of the talking. And I mean all.”
“Should I be mute?”
“What?”
“Should I pretend to be mute?”
“Oh for heaven’s sake, no. That sounds like the setup of one of those horrid penny dreadful stories. Just keep your comments to yourself. Your hair is a good start but you open that mouth of yours, you still sound like a girl. No offense.”
“None taken.”
After her ominous talk, I figured we would ignore our fellow travelers, but no, Mab did quite the opposite. She turned on the charm and wit, chatting openly with every man that came within ten feet of her. Not in a flirtatious way, though it was hard for the men not to flirt with her. I was confused at first, until I heard her bring up Stretch. I understood then. She was playing the part, seeking her man, as it were. Some of the men she questioned shuffled on ahead of us, traveling at a faster clip and surely taking the gossip of our search with them. News of Stretch would probably reach Truth before he or we ever would.
Mab was a sly gal.
To my surprise, despite the fact that she was a very attractive woman traveling alone—the presence of a single, weak young man was almost negligible—the men were somewhat respectful of her. As respectful as they were going to get, all things considered. Nearly everyone knew who she was, calling her by name as she approached them. Those who didn’t soon learned through whispers and cat calls. The name Mad Mab went up in a hush across the road, as men moved aside and let us pass. She got the occasional rump pat and sloppy hug which she would twist out of before it got to personal, but overall the men didn’t treat her like I thought they would. Which is to say they didn’t attack her like wild animals. I was beginning to think the men of the Badlands had gotten a bad reputation. That perhaps they weren’t as awful as folks made them out to be.
That was, until I found out exactly why the men treated her with something that was tantamount to respect.
We had just got done talking to a pair of men headed to Iron Station. A pair of boys really, no older than I, and one of them devilishly handsome. Mab put on a flirty air with them, I suspect to annoy me since I was blushing up a storm every time the cute one spoke. In the end, much like everyone else we talked to, they both agreed that if they saw this Stretch person, they would send word back to Truth. As we bade them farewell, a rough voice called out behind us.
“What have we got here?” a man said.
I looked past Mab to find a tall, heavyset man making his way toward us. Three men followed him, though at a distance. The few travelers on either side of us moved on, as well as the pair of boys we just talked with, leaving us alone with the man and his friends.
“I’ll be screwed six ways to Sunday,” the man said as he drew closer. “I think it’s a real god damned woman. All the way out here. I think God must’ve heard my prayers.”
“Bubba,” one of the other men said. “I don’t think you wanna mess with her.”
“You’re right. I don’t. I wanna mess all over her.”
His friends laughed, though more than a few cringed.
Mab closed her eyes and counted to five, slowly. She flexed her fists and relaxed them. Flexed. Relaxed. Flexed. Relaxed. When the man was nearly on us, she put on her best smile and turned around to face him.
“Well, hey there,” she said in a syrupy voice. “What can I do for you, hon?”
He smiled wide as he grabbed his crotch and said, “I think you know just wha—whoa!”
This last word he shouted as Mab grabbed his free arm and slung him, whole body, to the ground. She didn’t even give him a chance to act, he just toppled like an overturned turtle writhing in the dirt. One arm was pinned under him as Mab climbed aboard his broad back. She proceeded to snatch his free, flailing hand, twisting his arm behind his shoulders to the tune of his high pitched squeals. He kicked up a cloud, but it did no good, she was latched on too tightly.
One of his friends leapt forward, as if to intervene. I stepped between the fighting pair and the other men. Drawing my pistol, I set the hammer and aimed it at the others as I shook my head. The man raised his hands and backed off.
“Lemee go, you bitch!” the big man hollered.
“What’s your name?” Mab said.
“Go fuck yourself!” The man wriggled and bucked, but couldn’t throw her off.
She pulled his arm tighter, eliciting a loud pop from somewhere deep inside. “Tell me your name.”
Despi
te the obvious pain, the man didn’t answer. He continued to call her foul words and fight against her deadlock grip. My ears were red in moments, I had never heard such language.
Mab, tired of this game, yanked a blade from her belt and pressed the dull edge to his throat. “Your god damned name!”
“Billy!” the man shouted as he finally fell still. “B-b-but my friends call me Bubba. Please don’t kill me lady. I didn’t mean no harm.”
“Listen to me, Billy,” she said as she lowered her mouth to his ear. “I was sent here by God and not to answer your prayers. I was sent to answer the prayers of all those poor folks back east that you left suffering. I am here as God’s hand, not his whore. Do you understand me?”
“Suffer?” Billy said. “I didn’t leave anyone suffering. I only stole one pig.”
Mab stifled a chuckle at that. She set her mouth in a firm frown, fighting the urge to laugh aloud. “That pig belonged to someone.”
“Yeah, it belonged to my brother-in-law. He’s the one that had me tossed over the line.”
“Well, lesson learned.” She sheathed her blade. “Have any of you seen a man named Stretch Williams.”
“Stretch?” one of the men under my gun said. “Yeah, we seen him a couple of hours ago.”
“You have?” Mab said in mock surprise. “Which direction was he headed?”
“To Truth,” the man said. “Said he was gonna get in on the business.”
The other two men sneered at him.
“What?” he said. “At least she’s not after us.”
“Can I get up now?” Billy said in a weak, childish voice.
Mab crawled off of him, allowing the big man to scramble to his clumsy feet. When he stood, he was red from head to toe. For a moment I thought he would attack her again, but he didn’t. He just nodded and apologized a few times, then rejoined his men. No lingering threats of violence or revenge. No shouts or more foul names. I think the man really did learn his lesson.
The group moved on, leaving us alone on the dusty road. Mab breathed heavy beside of me, both of us keeping an eye on the four men as they grew further and further away from us. When they were out of earshot, Mab finally relaxed, letting out a long breath and doubling over to grab her knees.