Preacher shut it off and tilted his head toward the hallway leading to the front entrance.
“Found the water heater and lit it up just like you did the stove. It runs off the propane tank too. Sarah, if you would like to take a shower you’re welcome to it.” There’s a nice big bathroom in the upstairs hallway, second door on the right. And now that I think of it, I bet we get to actually use a toilet too!”
By then it was Sarah who was smiling the most. She had come to accept that she might not ever again enjoy the simple pleasure of not having to squat somewhere on the side of a road to do her toiletries.
“Normally I would argue that you should go first since it was your idea, Preacher, but this one time I’m going to be a little selfish. If there’s a toilet up there, and a shower, it’s all mine!”
Preacher chuckled and then gave Sarah a look she knew indicated how pleased he was to be able to bring her some happiness.
“My pleasure, Sarah, take your time. We might as well stay here for the night, so no rush.”
Sarah made her way upstairs, noting how much noise the stairs made with each step she took. She could see the small nail holes where a series of pictures had once hung on the wall leading upward and wondered what kind of family had once made the farmhouse their home. Were they happy here? Did they have many children and grandchildren? Was the home filled with the sounds of laughter and love during the holidays and birthday celebrations? And if so, would she ever have the chance to experience such moments during whatever remained of her own life?
Her right hand moved to the growing swell in her stomach, a habit she found herself doing more and more often of late.
What kind of world will greet my child?
It was a question that always loomed just in front of Sarah regardless of where she was or what she was doing. She prayed the madness of the Race Wars would subside before she gave birth, while also knowing there was a possibility that madness might yet remain or perhaps even grow more dangerous.
Sarah reached the top of the stairs and then found the door to the bathroom to the right as Preacher had earlier indicated. The bathroom was a twelve by twelve space with an updated double sink and countertop space that ran the length of the right wall, while a claw foot tube and shower dominated the left side of the room. The toilet was in the middle of the back wall and for Sarah she couldn’t decide what was more beautiful, it or the shower. She intended to take full advantage of both.
Downstairs, Preacher finished washing the coffee cups while Akrim located some candles and began to light them.
“Let there be light!”
Preacher smiled as he dried off the last cup with a clean rag he found hanging in the cupboard underneath the sink.
“A man could make a place like this home – be a good place to raise a family. There are acres and acres of field out back for growing crops. I figure around here that would be corn, mostly.”
Akrim’s right eyebrow lifted upward.
“You can see yourself as a farmer?”
Preacher shrugged.
“Sure, why not? I was in prison. I shared a nine by nine cell with two other men. I know what it is to feel like there’s not enough room to take another breath let alone live another day. I like the open spaces, the quiet, the chance to be left alone and hear your own thoughts and not all the noise of things that don’t really matter.”
Both men grew silent as the sound of Sarah singing in the shower made its way downstairs. It was a noise that made Preacher feel as if everything might turn out ok after all.
“Maybe we should stay here awhile?”
Though Akrim spoke the question, Preacher silently admitted to himself he had been thinking it within seconds of entering the farmhouse.It really did feel like a place that could be a home to them.
“I’m not sure we put enough distance between us and that biker gang.”
Akrim dismissed Preacher’s concern.
“There’s almost two hundred miles between us! They’d never find us out here. I’m sure they have plenty of other people to mess with.”
Preacher wasn’t so sure. He instinctively felt himself somehow connected to the bikers though had no idea as to how or why.
“Maybe you’re right, but there was something about seeing all those lights coming at us…”
Preacher’s voice faded into nothingness. Akrim again pushed aside the former boxer’s discomfort.
“Bah! We covered a lot of space. We won’t ever see them again. I say we give it some thought. Like you just said, this could be a home for us, at least for a while.”
Preacher welcomed the possibility, even as he feared it might prove a mistake.
“Yeah…maybe.”
30 minutes later…
Sarah felt herself rejuvenated after the shower. Her body was as clean as it had been in weeks. She was nearly to the top of the stairs on her way to the bedroom she had earlier chosen to use for the night when she stopped at the sight of Preacher coming out of the bathroom having just finished his own shower. He didn’t see her as his face was covered by the single white cotton towel he was using to dry his head.
Sarah gasped as she realized Preacher was completely naked. He had turned to make his way to one of the bedrooms as well and though her mind cried out for her to look away, her eyes remained fixated on Preacher’s well-sculpted backside as he walked down the hallway whistling softly to himself.
Stop looking! Stop looking! Stop looking!
Sarah didn’t stop looking.
Instead, her eyes widened as she devoured every nuance of the former boxer’s body and then found herself fantasizing about what it would be like to have such a powerful and athletic man moving above her.
Oh my god, I’m such a pervert!
Only when she heard one of the bedroom door’s close did Sarah continue up the stairs and into the hallway where she then scurried into her room, her face flush and her chest heaving.
It’s these damn hormones! Got me all worked up!
She sat down on the small twin bed that occupied the room and then was horrified to find herself fantasizing about Preacher opening the door and making his way toward the bed sans towel.
Sarah stood up and rubbed her eyes while pushing out the sudden and powerful feelings of lust from her mind.
The sound of knocking from outside her door caused Sarah to squeak like a frightened and sexually frustrated mouse.
“Sarah, can I come in?”
It was Preacher.
Oh, you can come in all right. You can come in and…
“Sarah?”
Sarah took a deep breath and cleared her throat before giving her response, hoping she sounded casual to the point of indifference.
“Yeah, sure, come on in.”
The door opened and there stood Preacher, though this time his body was hidden underneath his clothes.
“You feeling better after that shower?”
Sarah nodded.
“Yeah, it was great. Thank you so much for the hot water. I owe you one.”
What the hell is that supposed to mean? Could I be any more obvious?
Preacher took another step into the room and then closed the door.
“Akrim and I were talking…we thought maybe we might stay here for a while. I didn’t want to make any decision until you had a chance to share how you felt about it.”
Sarah sat back down on the bed and shrugged.
“Sure, I don’t see why not as long as you think it’s safe.”
Preacher smiled, the gesture making Sarah’s face start to flush once again.
“You mind if I sit down next to you on the bed?”
Sarah’s eyes widened as she nodded with what she felt to be far too much enthusiasm.
“Oh, yeah, sure, there’s plenty of room even for a little fat girl like me!”
Preacher sat down and shook his head as he pretended to scold the comment.
“You ain’t fat…you’re beautiful. I just wanted you to know�
�”
Preacher paused, his own nervousness making the words refuse to leave the safety of his mouth.
“I just wanted you to know that I care about you, Sarah. I care about you and the baby you’re carrying. I don’t know if you feel the same way about me as I feel about you, but I thought it was time I put it out there.”
Oh, you put it out there all right!
The thought made Sarah giggle. She clamped her right hand over her mouth, horrified that the sound might have offended Preacher.
“Something funny?”
Sarah’s guilt at having seen Preacher in his birthday suit required she come clean.
“A few minutes ago I, uh, I saw you come out of the bathroom.”
Preacher’s mouth tightened into an almost-frown.
“You did, huh?”
Sarah nodded while she avoided Preacher’s gaze.
“Yeah, I’m sorry it was an accident, I kind of froze and then I couldn’t look away…”
Preacher laughed.
“You couldn’t look away? I don’t know if that’s good or bad!”
Sarah’s mouth formed an exaggerated circle as she placed both her small hands on top of Preacher’s much larger ones.
“Oh, it was good…it was very-very good!”
Preacher sat on the bed next to Sarah for several seconds without saying anything and then he held Sarah’s head gently between his hands and brought his lips to hers and they kissed.
As soon as their lips touched, tears formed at the corners of Sarah’s eyes, so grateful was she to have the love of someone she considered the first real man she had known. He was both kind and strong, and she knew in that moment, he would never knowingly hurt her.
For Preacher it was confirmation of what he had already suspected – his devotion to Sarah, her safety and her happiness, was the most powerful emotion he had ever experienced. If the terrible pain and suffering he had endured while in prison had led him to her, he considered it all worth it.
“I love you, Sarah Markson.”
Sarah returned Preacher’s kiss more fiercely, pressing her lips tightly against his as she encircled her arms around his upper body.
At the very moment of that embrace several miles away, though not nearly so far as to keep Preacher, Sarah or Akrim safe, rode the Beast. He only had eyes for the road ahead, the hunt, and any sign of his intended prey – the nigger known as Preacher and his white bitch.
They were an abomination, a thing to be forever snuffed out for the good of the one true race. The Beast didn’t yet know how soon he was to find them, but knew he was closer than just a few hours earlier.
As he eased his chopper into a wide left turn, the Beast spotted two headlights approaching. There was just enough light for his keen eyes to make out the shape of a wood-paneled station wagon. It took but a few seconds for him to decide he intended to speak with the occupants of the approaching vehicle.
He wanted to know who they might have seen.
And once he had done so, he already knew would likely kill them. It wasn’t personal - it was simply who he was.
The Beast had never been one to fight his own nature. Quite the contrary, he happily embraced it.
He would have it no other way.
-------------------------
EPISODE THIRTY-SIX:
Silas and Lu had been watching the lone Native American Indian staring back at them for nearly an hour. The early morning sun did little to lessen the cold north wind that swept through the narrow valley that divided Silas Toms’ property and yet the Indian appeared to only be wearing a white t-shirt and blue jeans. His long black hair was tied back in a pony tail that hung down to his lower back.
“He’s a Malo Indian, an offshoot of the Sioux. Most folks around here consider them just a rumor but we had a few work here on the ranch during the summer months when my father was still alive. He called them the most noble and honest people he had ever known. I haven’t seen one for decades.”
The Indian’s distant stare made Lu increasingly uncomfortable.
“Why is he just standing there like that? Should we warn him to go away?”
Silas looked down at Lu with a look that clearly indicated his annoyance over such a suggestion.
“No, he’s just waiting.”
“Waiting for what?”
Silas shrugged and then turned to go back into the cabin.
“He’ll let us know if it’s our business to know. Otherwise, he’ll be gone soon enough. Until then we have work to do.”
Lu winced at the thought. He couldn’t understand how it was possible that Silas, being so much older than him, never seemed to tire or complain despite the hours they spent preparing the property for the people the rancher was certain were soon to arrive. The big man dug holes, lifted lumber, swung hammers, moved rocks and appeared none the worse for it while Lu could barely get out of bed the following morning. Over the last forty-eight hours they had erected a hundred and six large, white canvas tents throughout a ten-acre radius within Silas’s land. The tents were part of a large collection the old rancher had purchased years earlier at his wife’s insistence. Silas said they needed to have at least twice that number in place by the following week.
Lu was about to make his way into the cabin as well when his eye caught movement near the place where the Indian stood. It was another man. And then came another, and yet another. Within seconds the single Indian was joined by eleven more.
“Uh, Silas, something is happening.”
Silas emerged from inside the cabin and looked up at the gathering of Indians with eyes still sharp despite his years. He watched them for several seconds and then made his way down the cabin’s front porch steps.
“Where are you going?”
Silas didn’t look back as his long strides began to gather speed.
“To see what they want. You can stay here, or come with me. I don’t care either way.”
“Should I bring a weapon?”
Silas came to an abrupt halt and turned his head to the left to glare at Lu.
“No, those men up there are no threat to us, understand?”
Lu muttered a profanity to himself and then struggled to catch up to the rancher whose legs appeared to be twice the length of his own.
“Why are they still not moving?”
Silas lowered the brim of his cowboy hat and kept his eyes straight ahead as he answered.
“Because that’s the border to my property. They won’t cross it until I give them permission. I told you, they are an honorable people.”
After crossing nearly a thousand yards of the valley, Silas stopped and cupped a hand to both sides of his bearded mouth and began yelling up to the still unmoving row of Indians who looked down upon them from their vantage point at the top of the wispy-grass covered hillside.
“One of you come on down here and tell me what you want!”
Silas then held up both of his massive hands to show he wasn’t armed. He nudged Lu to do the same.
One of the twelve Indians, the one Lu had first seen that morning took two steps forward and held up his own hands to show he too was unarmed. Then he began jogging down the hill toward where both Silas and Lu stood waiting.
It took several minutes for the Indian to make the journey. When he arrived Lu was surprised to see how young he was. The Indian’s lean, dark-complexioned face was devoid of lines or wrinkles and housed two large brown eyes that twinkled with both vitality and confidence. Lu guessed the young man’s age to be no more than twenty.
“Hello, Silas Toms. I am Peter Gibson. My grandfather once worked for your family many years ago.”
Silas gave a quick half smile and nodded.
“I remember that name. What brings you to my home, Peter? And why the others who came with you?”
Peter tilted his head toward the hill behind him.
“These are days of darkness. We travel together for protection. We were not sure what we might find here. I am happy to see you still
well.”
Peter then pointed toward the recently erected tents.
“Are you expecting others?”
Silas straightened his posture so that he stood at his full height of six foot nine inches and then stared down at Peter Gibson and found the young Indian looking back up at him with a mixture of awe and respect.
Collapse Fiction: RACE WARS: SEASON SIX: Episodes 31-36: A Time For Choosing Page 6