by Ric Beard
“Yes! The first promise he made was the end to military conscription. Forgive me for finding that attractive when I thought about the other women, like my mother, who lost children. The sisters who lost brothers.”
“Of course, it’s attractive to people who’ve never known anything else. But the promise wasn’t his to make! He inserted himself as the leader. No one elected him.”
“Who else was going to do it?”
Jenna smiled. “If we have our way, you’re going to find out some day. Let the people decide.”
“Who is we?”
Jenna pressed her lips together.
“The Black Ghosts? You one of them?”
Jenna turned her head to the side and smirked.
“You with the tall redheaded woman?”
Jenna’s head jerked around.
“Oh yeah, we know about her. Seems she rolled into town with some pretty man and got herself tied to a pole, Horace style. Then one of our lawkeepers was executed while guarding them.”
“Why were they tied to poles in the first place? I thought Sampson wasn’t like Horace.”
“It wasn’t Sampson who tied them to the poles.” Ruby stood, folded the chair, and set it back in place. “I think I’ve gotten what I need here.” She paced back across the room. “You know, Jenna, beneath all this contention, you seem like a good person…someone who cares about others. If you’d stuck to the drugs, everything would’ve been fine. I don’t care if you believe me, but when you started arming people, teaching them to fire your fancy weapons? Well…” she paced over to the door and spun the wheel. “You sealed your fate.” She turned back. “I know you don’t believe me, but I’m sorry it ended up this way. I’m sorry about your friend.”
Ruby turned to pull the door open, but Jenna’s words stopped her.
“Tell me one more thing,” Jenna said, as a thought occurred to her.
Ruby didn’t turn as she answered. “What?”
“The wound looked pretty fresh when I asked if you’d killed anyone. Did you kill Lawkeeper Jones, Ruby?”
“No. I relieved him of duty.”
“Where is he now?”
“Actually, I don’t know.”
“If you’re going to kill me, do me one favor?” Jenna asked.
“Depends on what it is,” Ruby said with a suspicious twitch of one eye.
“Find out where he is. Go see him. That will tell you what kind of man Sampson really is.”
“You’re missing one of the finer points, here, Jenna.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. I already know what kind of man Sampson is.” She turned and spun the wheel. “Sorry about your friend.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
YOU NEED A NAP
37
When the Oreo remnants of asphalt gave way to the oyster gravel of the higher elevations, Sean’s throat stretched into a long, loud yawn. The storms stretched from dawn until around noon and made the going slow and tiresome. By the time they’d had a few hours of clear skies in the afternoon, the damage was done, and Sean was ready for a pit stop.
“We’ll be stopping soon,” Moss said.
“Did I yawn in your ear? Sorry. Didn’t realize the throat mic was on.”
“No big concern.” Moss’s vehicle dodged a pit in the road, its tracks turning at an angle, sliding easily to avoid the obstacle and causing a twinge of jealousy in Sean. “After this climb, we’ll descend into a valley. There’s a farm there. We’ll stop for the night.
“We’re stopping at a farm?”
“Yes. I want to show you something.”
“What?”
“Patience isn’t your greatest attribute, is it Sean?”
He might be a smart ass, but he’s an eloquent smart ass.
His time out west hadn’t prepared him for the vista that floated into view as they breached the crest of the mountainside.
“That’s the kind of sight that makes a guy feel insignificant.”
A flood of green on either side of the road thousands of feet below was framed by the rocky slopes on either side of their vehicles as they rolled down the steep incline toward the valley. Pines were stitched across the rolling hills as if someone had sewn them through the grass and onto the surface of the vale beneath. Halfway down the hill, Moss pulled off the road and vanished into the bushes. Sean hit the brakes in preparation, but found his exit point was something of a mirage, when viewed from behind. Throttling to nearly a stop, he eased the truck between two thick pines and onto a narrow trail that wound its way through the forest’s canopy. Ahead he saw Moss disappear around a curve.
“Hey don’t wait for me or anything.”
“Sorry,” Moss said. “This stretch is fun to drive. Need me to slow down?”
Sean chuckled. “No, I guess not. By all means, enjoy the trip.”
“Thanks!”
After a harrowing ten minutes, Sean came to a narrow bend in the road. He yanked his foot off the accelerator and pounded the breaks just in time to miss a crevasse beyond.
“Damn!”
“You okay?”
“Well, you could’ve warned me about the ditch!”
“I figured the truck would take it, considering how well you handle it.”
“Um. Thanks.”
Is my ego that easy?
“I’m down the hill. See the house?”
Sean raised his eyes from the path and saw a black figure next to a larger white structure that he supposed was Moss next to a farmhouse. Zooming with his SmartGlasses, he found this to be the case.
“Roger.”
“Cool.”
“That still doesn’t sound right when you say it.”
“Man, you need a nap.”
Sean smiled as he pulled the truck in next to the two-story farm house. The siding was in need of another whitewashing, and the roost upstairs on the front side was wrapped in two-by-fours painted the color of the surrounding forest. That paint looked fresher, and Sean wondered where they got it.
The brakes squealed as the truck came to a halt, and Sean spied three figures on the front stoop. He jerked when he noticed the one on the second level holding a black rifle with a long barrel and a huge scope. Throwing a salute, he sighed a long breath and kicked open the door.
All the men were dressed in outfits near the color of the porch railings.
They look like those plastic army men I played with as a kid. Same outfits as Moss’s but green.
He dropped into the grass and slammed the truck door behind him. His backside felt the tingling aftereffect of having been seated for too long as he paced across to the Black Cat prototype.
“What is this place?”
The three men approached Moss and shook his hand, in turn.
“This is the Ellison farm,” Moss said. “I’ll introduce you.”
Sean looked past the men to find a woman standing in the shadows of the porch with her arms folded across her chest. She wore a housecoat, and her sandy hair was tied back in a lazy bun with loose strands framing her face. His eyes only perused her for a few heartbeats, though, because the really interesting sight stood beyond her, atop the neat little rows of raised soil that would be plowed and planted in the coming months.
Moss indicated the tallest man standing by him. “This is my brother, Mitchell.” The tall man’s hat bobbed in greeting.
“So, you call each other brother, like he’s part of the order you were telling me about?”
“We do, but no, I mean, literally. He’s my younger brother.”
“Mitchell Moss?” Sean asked.
The man extended a green glove, and Sean gripped it.
“What do I call you? I mean, I can’t readily call you Moss.”
“Why not?” Mitchell Moss asked.
“Um…”
“I’m screwing with you, chief. I go by Mitch.”
Sean chuckled.
“This is Josiah Webb.” Moss indicated the guy standing in the middle, whose broad shoulders
seemed out of place with the other, slimmer members of the crew. Though he didn’t offer his hand, Josiah’s hat bobbed.
“…And this is Ranga.”
“Ranga?” Sean asked.
“Yes,” Ranga replied. He stepped forward and shook hands with Sean.
“Ranga is one of Sasha’s brothers,” Moss said. “I’ll have to explain that whole—” he made quotations with his fingers, “—lineage later. It’s the kind of story you tell once.”
Though his curiosity was piqued, Sean stayed quiet.
Moss pointed up at the man on the second floor.
“That’s Earl.”
Sean suppressed a laugh. “Just Earl?”
“Just Earl. Also one of Sasha’s brothers.”
“Sasha has a lot of brothers.”
“Too many to count, Stone. Too many to count.”
He calls me Stone, now that we’re with his men.
“Again, a story for later.”
Sean threw Earl a salute. Earl returned it.
“Nadine?” Moss called out.
“Yes, Porter?”
Sean noted the first-name basis.
“May we approach?”
“You’re being silly, Porter Moss. Get your backside over here.”
They walked to the porch, and Nadine wrapped Moss in a hug.
“Glad to see you’re safe.” Her eyes crept up and down Sean’s form. “Who is this strapping young man?”
“Strapping?” Moss asked.
“Lord, you people don’t know anything.” She stepped forward and threw out a hand. “I’m Nadine Ellison. This is me and my husband’s place.”
“Sean Stone.” He ticked his head toward the field. “I’m guessing that truck over there doesn’t belong to you.”
Nadine smiled, and it made her look ten years younger. “I reckon, in a sense, it does. It’s in my field. I take your meaning, though. My friends, here, made that bit of a mess.”
The truck’s frame was charred black, the hood raised open as if to salute the sun god, Ra. Because of the open doors on both sides, Sean envisioned men on fire leaping from the truck and running into the fields covered in flames—a site similar to one which had haunted him for decades after seeing the same fate fall upon children, subject to a Horde raid, before it was called The Horde.
“You really know how to make a mess, Moss,” Sean said.
“I had no part in that particular mess.”
Mitch chuckled. “You’re the one who stationed us here, brother.” He punched Moss in the shoulder. “If you don’t want people making messes, don’t turn to those who specialize.”
“Have any of Sampson’s men returned?” Moss asked.
All three men and Nadine shook their heads.
“Then I guess we made the right kind of mess.” He turned to Nadine. “Don’t worry, we’ll haul it out of your field before planting season.”
Nadine shrugged. “Hey, I’ll grow around it if it scares Sampson’s ass away from here. It’s like a big metal scarecrow.”
Sean’s eyes danced around the circle as he took a quick accounting of everyone on the porch.
“Not to appear rude, but why are you all here?”
Nadine threw up an indifferent hand. “Hm. I live here.”
“Long story. Churchill farm.” Moss asked.
Sean frowned. “I was at the Churchill farm after it happened. Got a first-hand accounting. Didn’t sleep for two days.”
Heads ticked up at the announcement, but everyone remained silent, somber.
“You’re a man of conscience, Stone. I hadn’t known you’d seen it, but the fact you did seems to indicate our paths were destined to cross. Anyway, it’s just over that ridge.” He pointed to the east so his shadow on the porch looked like an inverted V. “We monitored this road after Sampson’s men made that mess. When they came here, we tailed them and sent them away.”
“Saved our lives,” Nadine said. “If we’d given them anymore, we’d have gone without.” She rubbed Moss’s back in a few quick circles.
Sean nodded.
“They went away readily enough,” Moss continued.
“Cowards with guns run when facing gunpoint,” Mitch muttered.
“True enough. After we forced them out, I left my brother and his team here. Sampson’s men returned in two trucks. Mitch, Ranga, Earl, and Josiah dispatched them easily enough.”
“How’d you blow the truck to smithereens like that?” Sean asked.
“RPG,” Mitch said.
“That would do it. I didn’t even know they had shoulder-fired rockets anymore.”
“OK City has everything. We leeched them.”
Don’t ask.
“How long will you stay here?”
Moss cocked his head toward Nadine. “As long as Nadine and Jarrod will have us.”
“As long as you like,” Nadine said. She patted Moss’s shoulder. Then she gripped it. Then she set her hand on it.
Sean involuntarily raised an eyebrow and forced it back down.
“As long as Sampson’s around,” Mitch said. “We’ve got nowhere to be.”
Nadine slapped her palms together and rubbed. “Will you eat? You all must be tired.”
“Do you have enough?” Sean asked. “I thought you were low when his men came?”
“Oh, yes,” Nadine said. “These boys hunt. We have venison and I salted a hog. Plenty of food in them woods! Come, come!” She waved a hand over her shoulder as she pulled the screen door open and then men followed her through. Mitch wore a smile.
“I’m guessing dinner time is popular around here,” Sean said.
Mitch nodded. “You have no idea, Stone.”
Though Jarrod had come downstairs for a brief hello during the meal, Nadine had sent him back to bed with authority. Noting his pallor and the dark circles under his eyes, Sean had asked if his illness was serious. Nadine explained he got headaches, and her description of the symptoms indicated to Sean they were migraines.
The two children of the household, Little Randy and Margie, were sent off immediately at the completion of their meals. Sean was amused to see the idea of table manners died with the old world, as far as the MidEast was concerned. As the kids dashed from the table, their footsteps thundered down the hallway, and they disappeared through a door underneath the stairs. Apparently there was a basement in which to take refuge if another gunfight broke out on the farm.
The men of Mitch’s team sat with Sean and Moss around a fire in the backyard on metallic sleeping tubes and wooden stools as Nadine had retired to the upstairs to care for her husband. The tubes were unlike anything Sean had seen before, apparently heated by their bike engines via some liquid running through tubes winding through the inner mesh. The bikes had solar, like Sasha’s.
Sean picked at a piece of pork in his teeth.
“I’m sure you’re wondering why I brought you here,” Moss said.
Sean patted his belly. “I could give two shits, but I’m glad you did.”
“He’s funny,” Earl said, devoid of any humor. The words slipped out the side of his mouth. The best Sean could tell, Earl was chewing on a piece of wood, but it was hard to tell in the firelight.
“You’re a pretty funny fellow, yourself, Earl,” Moss said, equally devoid of humor. “Stone, the reason I brought you is simple. I want you and Lexi to know you can trust us.”
“I almost never trust a guy who says I can trust him. You remember that guy in OK City I was waving my gun at when you conveniently disappeared? We had a trust thing.”
Now that he thought of it, it was he who’d told Carson during the last deal they’d done, that he trusted his betrayer would pay the right amount for Sean’s smuggled gems. Sean hadn’t counted the money while Carson was standing there, but he’d counted it in a hurry when he’d left. He dismissed the thought with a mental shrug.
“This is why he’s presenting you with evidence, Mister Stone,” Josiah said.
Sean’s eyes flicked over to him
. Throughout the introductions and dinner, he hadn’t spoken. He’d been so eerily silent, in fact, he made Sean a tad nervous. Now that he’d spoken, his tone was cordial enough as he explained Moss’s motivations.
The Churchill family gets attacked. Moss gets wind of it and calls in his team. They trail Sampson’s guys to this farm and send a pretty clear message.
The burned-out truck flashed into his mind.
“How many men died when you blew up that truck?”
Josiah responded. “The boys cleared the truck before I fired on it from up top. We banged a couple of ‘em up pretty well, but no one died that day.”
“I gifted one of them a leg wound.” Earl winked. “You know, just to keep shit real.”
Sean nodded. “Right.” Considering the finality of that topic, he changed subjects to one that held higher interest for him. “You were going to tell me about where you were from?”
Moss stared at him for a long moment and then Sean realized they’d all locked him in their gazes. They’d removed their hats, so at least he could see their faces instead of staring into the typical shadows, but the gleam of their eyes in the firelight was unnerving.
Wood in the fire popped and jumped. Earl smiled, but the others didn’t so much as flinch. Right when Sean was certain he wasn’t going to get an answer. Moss cleared his throat.
“We’re from a place in the Northwest called Plains City.”
Sean mouthed the name silently. He wondered if Moss meant the northwestern section of the region or the continent. If he had no real concept of the United States boundaries, it could be either.
“A city?”
“It’s in a place called The Dakotas, during your time.”
“I know the place.”
“Of course, you do,” Earl said. “You’re the oldest man alive, right?”
“Seems I don’t have many secrets, here.”
“You like secrets, do you?”
“I get the impression you don’t like me.”
“Don’t take it personally,” Mitch said. “Earl talks like he doesn’t like anyone. It doesn’t mean anything.”
“Maybe it means I don’t like him.”
“Advocate!” Moss barked. Earl’s head swiveled and he locked eyes with Moss. Sean could see the muscles working in his road trip companion’s jaw, which was more expression than he was accustomed to. Right when he thought the two men might lock horns, Earl nodded and turned his eyes back to the fire. Moss, however, didn’t seem ready to let it go. “I’m happy to stand for Mister Stone if anyone wants to test my mettle, tonight.”