Badlands Trilogy (Novella): Redemption In the Badlands

by Jarrett, Brian J.

  Dan fell, arms outstretched in a feeble attempt to cushion the impact. He struck the floor hard, hot agony tearing through him as his battered and broken body hit the unforgiving surface. He held on to the knife, but the pistol flew from his hand and landed on the floor a couple of feet away.

  Dan watched in disbelief as the giant staggered toward him, blood soaking his shirt. He struggled to keep himself on his feet, stumbling as he made his way to where Dan lay.

  “Mudderfugger,” the giant croaked. Bloody froth coated his lips as he breathed in and out with wet, sucking sounds.

  Stars clouded Dan’s vision as he stared up at the lumbering giant. How could this man be on his feet again? He struggled to right himself, but his ribs screamed at him and his vision blurred. His chest tightened so that he could hardly breathe.

  In a second, the giant reached down and gripped Dan by the shirt, lifting him to his feet. Fresh blood ran from the big man’s chest, but he managed to pick Dan up under the arms, lifting him from the floor.

  Then he squeezed; his tree-trunk arms wrapping Dan in a vice-like bearhug. Dan’s vision blurred. He felt himself slipping away into blackness.

  “Mudderfugger,” the giant repeated. Hatred burned in his stupid eyes.

  Fresh hell erupted in Dan’s chest as the big man tightened his grip. Dark spots appeared in Dan’s vision. He tried to breathe, but couldn’t force the air in.

  The giant squeezed harder. Summoning up all the strength he could muster, Dan gripped the knife hard and plunged it into the side of his attacker’s head.

  The giant’s eyes went wide before losing focus. His grip loosened and Dan fell to the floor, collapsing. He teetered for a moment before crashing to the floor like a massive tree felled by a lumberjack.

  Seeing his opportunity, Boyd darted toward the pistol lying on the floor only foot or two from Dan.

  Dan tried to sit up, but the fire in his ribs kept him where he lay.

  Crossing the short distance quickly, Boyd dropped to his knees by the gun and reached out for it with his good arm.

  Just before Boyd could get a hand on the pistol, Dan drew back a leg and kicked the gun hard, sending it skittering across the floor. It slid under the table where Lilly lay, coming to a stop a few feet beneath it.

  Boyd scowled at Dan.

  Then he pounced.

  Before Dan could move to stop him, Boyd had straddled Dan’s chest. Although his injured left arm hung limply by his side, his right proved more than capable as he drew back a fist and prepared to drive it into Dan’s already shattered nose.

  Dan jerked his head to the side as Boyd’s fist came crashing down, missing by only an inch. Bones broke in Boyd’s hand as his fist slammed into the hard floor. He howled in agony as Dan sent an elbow into Boyd’s temple. It connected squarely against the Italian’s skull, sending him to the floor. He landed on his back, clutching his broken hand and howling.

  “You son of a bitch!” Boyd screamed as he tried to get back to his feet again.

  Dan responded by sending a fist into Boyd’s gut. The man on the floor groaned but kept coming. He balled his good hand into a fist and drew it back, but Dan proved quicker. He slammed a fist into Boyd’s nose, breaking the cartilage and knocking the man to the floor.

  Straddling Boyd’s chest now, Dan sent knuckles into Boyd’s nose again, putting everything he still had left into the punch. The impact shattered what was left of Boyd’s nose. It lay on his face, cocked in an unnatural position as blood poured from the ruined cavity. Boyd’s eyes lost focus as he made gurgling sounds, coughing and spitting blood.

  Dan drew back and let another punch fly, his arm pistoning like a machine.

  Boyd’s eye socket shattered upon impact, the thin skin around the socket lacerated by the sharp edges of bone fragments.

  Boyd stopped moving, but Dan continued the assault.

  By the time he finally finished, Boyd’s face was an unrecognizable hunk of meat. Dan stood, balancing on shaky legs. He looked down at his bloody fists before his eyes went to Boyd’s body, lying motionless on the floor in a pool of cooling blood.

  Then the sound of clapping came from behind him.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  “Congratulations,” the boy said, slow-clapping like a character from a bad eighties movie.

  Dan turned around, his brow furrowed as his mind tried to catch up with what was happening.

  “You outdid yourself,” Tony said. He glanced down at Boyd’s motionless body. “I never liked that guy anyway. I always thought he was planning to take me out.” He shrugged. “Guess it doesn’t matter now.”

  “What?” Dan said, the words sounding stupid and hollow as they fell out of his mouth.

  The boy reached into his back pocket and retrieved a pistol, pointing it at Dan. “I’ll give you credit; you put up a hell of a fight. I almost want to give the girl back to you, but that’s not gonna happen.”

  “I don’t understand any of this,” Dan said.

  “You cleaned out my crew. Now these other assholes, I don’t give a shit about them. Still, I would have let you walk, but you killed Moose. I liked him. He was useful.” Tony paused. “I like your girl, too.”

  Dan could only watch, stupefied, as words fit for a man twice as old flowed out of the kid’s mouth.

  “I’ll tell you what,” Tony continued. “Since you put up such a fight, I’ll give you another fighting chance. I’m gonna walk you out the front door and give you a ten-second head start. If you can outrun bullets, then you can live. If not…well, you know what that means.”

  “Let her go,” Dan said. His words hung impotently in the air.

  “Get to stepping,” the kid said, motioning with the pistol.

  Still reeling from an overpowering cocktail of adrenaline, violence, and surprise, Dan tried to wrap his head around what he was seeing. The kid couldn’t be any older than eleven or twelve…could evil really take hold in someone so young?

  One look into the kid’s eyes gave Dan his answer. Those eyes; there were black pits that led straight into the depths of Hell.

  Dan nodded. “Okay.”

  Tony grinned like a wolf as Dan took a step toward the door.

  Gritting his teeth in finalistic determination, Dan spun on his heels and charged Tony as the boy raised the pistol and pulled the trigger.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Nothing happened. The gun didn’t go off.

  A functioning part of Dan’s mind realized the kid had forgotten to switch off the safety.

  Dan took two steps, ignoring the agony of his battered body as he quickly closed the distance.

  The kid’s eyes went wide with surprise; he surely didn’t expect things to turn out this way. He pulled the trigger again, harder this time, but still, nothing happened.

  Dan closed the distance by another couple of feet.

  Realizing his mistake, the boy switched off the safety. He pointed the pistol again. Now only a few feet remained between them as he pulled the trigger. Flames licked from the barrel as the gun jumped in his hand.

  Then Dan was on him, tackling Tony to the floor. They landed together hard, the kid on his back and Dan on top.

  The boy tried to point the pistol at Dan again, but Dan gripped his wrist, slamming his hand on the floor hard.

  Tony held onto the pistol.

  Dan slammed the kid’s wrist to the floor a few more times before Tony eventually released the gun.

  Dan wrapped his hands around the boy’s throat. A part of his mind protested—the sane and compassionate part—but that voice was now like a candle in a windstorm.

  Dan squeezed.

  He didn’t stop until the kid’s face had turned blue and his body had gone motionless.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  “Dan?” Lilly said.

  She approached him from behind and gently touched his shoulder.

  Dan looked down to find his hands still wrapped around the boy’s throat. He pulled them away as if waking from
a dream.

  He stared at his hands, his agents of retribution.

  He looked up at her. The softness he’d seen in her eyes now extended out to the rest of her face. He saw depth in her eyes; not the black pools of evil he’d seen in the boy’s eyes, but a wonderfully bottomless well of kindness and understanding.

  Lilly touched his face.

  “Let’s go,” she said, extending her hand.

  Dan took it.

  Chapter Fifty

  Lilly led Dan out of the room, past the ruined corpses and into the lobby. There she placed him on one of the couches and told him to wait until she returned.

  He nodded absently like a man drugged.

  She found a duffel bag in one of the offices and opened it. Inside she discovered gym clothes; a baggy shirt along with running shorts, socks, and shoes. The workout clothes once used by a CPA, no doubt long since dead.

  She put on the clothes. It made her feel better not to be exposed.

  She rounded up the remaining weapons, including all the pistols and Dan’s knife. She discovered two additional knives and another handgun that had belonged to the thugs who’d taken her and nearly raped and killed her. She put everything in the duffel bag, hefting it up and over her shoulder before returning to the lobby.

  There Dan sat, still staring ahead like a zombie.

  She touched his shoulder. He looked up at her, a look of confusion and shock on his face.

  She smiled at him. “Come on.”

  He followed.

  They left the building and made their way to the van. There she helped Dan into the passenger seat. She placed the duffel bag inside and made her way around to the driver’s side door, stepping over the bloody body lying on the pavement.

  She found the keys in the ignition, so she slid behind the wheel and turned the key. The engine started without hesitation, settling into a quiet purr.

  Lilly placed the transmission into drive and pulled back onto the road.

  She had a stop still to make.

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Back at Dan’s place, Lilly got to work.

  She left him in the van. He was hurt, she knew, but he would live.

  Thank God, he would survive.

  It took two hours and dozens of trips up and down the steps before she cleared all the food and supplies that would fit inside the van. She filled up the tank from gas cans Dan had stashed away before slipping behind the wheel again.

  Like Dan, she said a little prayer before turning the key. The engine obeyed without hesitation.

  She piloted the van back on the road, this time in the opposite way from which they’d come.

  Only death lay in that direction.

  She gently placed a hand on Dan’s knee, leaving it there.

  He covered her hand with his.

  She didn’t know where they would end up, but wherever they went, she knew they would go there together.

  About the Author

  Brian J. Jarrett is a computer programmer by day and a horror/thriller writer by night. He grew up in West Virginia and now resides in St. Louis, Missouri with his wife and children.

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  http://brianjjarrett.com/offer/

  Also by Brian J. Jarrett

  NOVELS & NOVELLAS

  Into the Badlands (Badlands Trilogy #1)

  Beyond the Badlands (Badlands Trilogy #2)

  Out of the Badlands (Badlands Trilogy #3)

  Redemption In the Badlands

  The Desolate

  The Crossover Gene

  It Came From the Mountain

  The Saint, the Sinner and the Coward

  Muster Drill

  Yesterday In Black (Tom Miller #1)

  I Am the Darkness (Tom Miller #2)

  Familiar Lies

  Devil Breed

  Kryptos

  COLLECTIONS & SHORT STORIES

  Walking At Night

  Wishes and Desires

  Dine In

  Cycle

  Afterword

  When I finished the third book in this series back in the spring of 2016, I hoped that I’d be able to return to the Badlands universe again, in one form or another. I have ideas for a continuation of the story set years after the trilogy ends, along with some thoughts on a prequel.

  I also knew that some of the characters from the trilogy weren’t completely done with me.

  Pastor Dan kept nagging at my subconscious. I’d like to say I decided to finally tell his story, but it almost feels like he forced me into it. Weird how characters can take on such a lifelike presence in a writer’s mind.

  Pastor Dan was inspired by my wife’s late uncle. Unlike those slimy televangelists with mansions and personal jets, Jim Carcia was a life-long preacher who never got rich off of God. He walked the walk. I always respected him and his beliefs, even if I didn’t share them. Unfortunately, he died a couple of months before I finished this book, but if he was right then I guess he already knows I’m writing this about him.

  Dave Porter’s story still needs to be told and I’ll get to that provided the creek don’t rise, but it’s going to take some time to get that story right. For now, I hope you enjoyed revisiting the Badlands universe as much as I did. I don’t know what happened to Dan and Lilly, but I suspect that things turned out okay for them.

  Thanks for coming with me on this journey. I hope you’ll continue to join me on more adventures down the road.

  Brian J. Jarrett

  March 2, 2017

  St. Louis, MO

  Acknowledgements

  I’d like to thank you for your support. Without you, these stories make no sound.

  If you enjoyed this book please consider leaving a review at the store where you purchased it. Reviews really help me and other potential readers. Thanks!