by Ric Beard
“But then I remembered what the people in Simms’s town claimed. That they’d seen the black figure walking right up the middle of the road before vanishing into the night. Sitting on the back of that truck, I asked myself, ‘why would someone trying to hide themselves walk right up the middle of the street after murdering a lawkeeper, unless they wanted to be seen?’” The gun wavered in her hand. “But I know the answer. Not only did you want to frame these people for the deed, you wanted to instill fear of them. You knew word would spread to the central trading town and Proctor would be exposed, without her bodyguards. But they didn’t leave so easily as that, though, did they?”
“Ruby?” Jenna said, pleading. “Don’t do anything stupid.”
“Like what?” Ruby asked. “Kill the man who murdered our lawkeeper and framed you people for it? Execute the man who murdered his own lieutenant for doing what he told them to do, murdering a family who didn’t want to pay?” She raised the pistol higher. “Give me one reason I shouldn’t give him the same he gave Simms.” She turned to Sampson and felt a snarl cross her face as she ground out the next words. “The same you gave Jonesy.”
Sampson parted his lips as if he’d speak, but didn’t answer.
“Tell me, Sampson, where is Jonesy?”
Sampson leered at Ruby.
“Is he dead?”
Sampson’s face twitched.
“You told those people he’d be spared.”
Ruby felt disgust creeping over her as Sampson’s bloody face widened in a full, bloody-toothed grin. “There are always going to be casualties, Rubes.”
Ruby’s finger twitched and pulled the trigger. Sampson’s face jolted, the blood from his nostril freezing to his face as blue light glowed beneath his skin, and he crumpled to the ground.
“Shit!” Jenna yelled.
A commotion of the bodies raising weapons in the tunnel was mere background noise as Ruby stepped forward, held the gun down and fired again, then again. Her finger began tapping the soft trigger over and over until the weapon’s charge depleted and clicked emptily.
Standing with the gun dangling loosely next to her, Ruby stared down at the man after whom she’d pined, admiring the streaks of golden hair now caked in the muddy earth of the mine’s surface. She spat.
“Don’t call me Rubes.”
“I might be crazy,” a female voice with a southern draw said. Ruby’s head swept slowly around to find Lucinda Proctor smiling. “But I think I like her.”
Chapter Eighty
ONCE A WHORE…
80
It hadn’t taken two days for the whore to be back in the same dump, turning the same old tricks. The traitorous wench would’ve better served the community by swinging from the fresh scaffold he’d seen as he snuck into town under the cover of night.
Once a whore…
Didn’t look like the leg-spreading harlot had much luck at the saloon this evening. She lumbered along, in a half-drunken stagger as her feet rattled across the gravel, her walnut hair washed by the white light of a high moon. She turned up an alley, and Bradshaw fell in behind her, after a quick check over each shoulder at the empty streets.
He trailed her quietly, slowly lowering his boots into the powdery surface between the buildings.
Oh, how your station falls, whore. Betray your people, leave that Proctor bitch in charge, and you get to come home, your only punishment to return to your old life? Well, Rubes, I guess I’ll be doing you a favor.
By the time she turned at the sound of his footfalls and showed him shocked eyes, it was too late. He raised a hand to punch her in the throat, but as he drew back, something slammed into his side and sent him sprawling to the ground. Gravel bit into his face as he skidded to a halt, and Bradshaw rolled, reaching for his gun belt.
“You’ll want to still your hands, mister.”
Something hard and cold pressed so hard into his face it raised his upper lip and bared his teeth. Bradshaw’s eyed the pulse pistol and then focused on the figure standing behind it. The figure’s features were shaded by a wide-brimmed hat with a bandana of the same flat black wrapped around his face. Bradshaw raised his hands and dropped them onto the gravel, palms up, next to his shoulders.
The man used his free hand to tilt the hat backward and pull down the bandana. Bradshaw’s mouth gaped as he took in the rest of the petite man’s form.
The asshole from the jail. Proctor’s protector. I’ve been duped!
“I don’t know how you got out of that valley, Justice Bradshaw” the man said. “But now your reckoning is due.”
Bradshaw squinted against the light of the moon that painted a shadow onto the man’s face. “So the scaffold was for me, huh?”
He laughed. “Is for you.” He shrugged. “Well, that’s the chief’s plan, but I think we had some unfinished business, didn’t we?” The man reached down and yanked Bradshaw’s automatic out of its holster, tossing it to the side. Then he patted him down while holding the pistol under his chin. “Any other weapons? Tell the truth, and maybe I’ll give you a shot at me, hand-to-hand. Lie to me, and I’ll kill you.”
Bradshaw’s eyes traced the smaller man’s form, and he suppressed a grin.
“There’s a knife in my boot.” The man carefully traced Bradshaw’s body with the palm of his hand, feeling for other weapons as he moved toward his feet. The gun was steady, adjusted constantly to keep it shoved into his neck. “Left one.”
The knife slipped easily out of the boot, and the Black Ghost tossed it aside. Then he abruptly pulled the gun aside, tossed it toward the alley wall, and stepped back.
“On your feet.”
Bradshaw sat up, eyeing the tiny man with suspicion. When he was sure his adversary wouldn’t move, he pushed himself up and looked around. The alley was empty, Ruby was gone.
“It’s just us, big man. In case you forgot, my name is Jacob. I thought you’d like to know the name of the man whose gonna beat on you.”
“You can try, boy.”
“You beat me, you walk out of town. I beat you, you swing.”
“Deal.” The moonlight shone from above, illuminating the white rows of teeth that widened as the small man’s face stretched into smile. Bradshaw’s heart thumped.
Chapter Eighty-One
WHAT ABOUT RUBY?
81
The tall man swung from the rope beyond the dispersing crowd. Lucinda Proctor peered up at him, her arms folded across her chest. Jacob matched her posture. She gazed over at him.
Though he’d pounded the large man swinging from the rope, there was no indication he’d been in a fistfight. No bruises, no cuts, not so much as a spec of white dust on his black outfit.
“There are still a few trucks out there,” Jacob said.
“They’ll have to pull in somewhere, at some point.”
“What will you do with them?”
“Nothing. As long as none of them tries to rise up in Sampson’s place. They’ll try to assimilate. They’ll work in the lumber mills, the textile mill, maybe out on a farm. I don’t think they’ll want the people of the Mideast to know who they worked for.”
“What about Ruby?”
Lucinda smiled. “Call it luck, but I think the MidEast has stumbled on the perfect answer to its problems. She’s seen what following gets her. I think she’s a born leader. I plan to put her up for office.”
“You think the people will forgive her?”
‘What’s to forgive? She didn’t kill anybody. Sampson lied to her like the rest. Difference is, she was there while Sampson was planning all the infrastructure and industry. She could carry it on, without the drugs, of course. People still want to work.”
“I thought you’d lead.”
Lucinda laughed. “My goodness, Jacob, but aren’t you dense.” She turned, lowering her arms. “I have two things I plan to do, and neither involves leading the MidEast.”
“What are those?”
“Replacing the Marshal in Blacksburg for one.”
“What about that guy Marbury, from Ingle’s Ferry?”
“Oh, I think his heart is in the right place. Lexi and Sasha seem to think so, anyway.”
“What’s the second thing?”
“Well, my, Jacob. You truly are dense. You spent all this time protecting me, watching my back, saving me from the likes of Sampson De Le Court and that swinging corpse up there, got no reward, no pay of any kind, and you don’t know what I’m going to do next?”
He shrugged.
Lucinda leaned forward, gripped his chin with three fingers and pulled it forward.
“I’m going to take you to my bed, Black Ghost.”
Chapter Eighty-Two
SHE WON’T STOP
82
Lexi and Jenna sat on the roof of Lucinda’s gun shop in Blacksburg. Moss stood off to one side, staring at the orange half-circle meandering down the horizon in the west.
“I’m sorry we can’t go with you,” Jenna said.
Lexi nodded, rubbing at the knees pulled up to her chest. “You both deserted OK City. It’s not like you can just walk inside. I get it.”
Jenna gripped one of Lexi’s hands and pulled it toward her.
“Have you packed supplies?”
“Yes. I’m ready to go.”
Moss spoke without turning away from the horizon, his figure traced in the fiery orange of the sun beyond.
“I don’t understand why Sean hasn’t arrived in OK City. Very suspicious. I have to say, I grew fond of your brother as we rode together, and I’m concerned.”
“I’m glad you like him,” Lexi said. “I do, too.” She stood and dusted off the back of her shorts. “I’ve waited until your people got wind of him, now I have to assume the worst. But I’m still gonna follow the most likely path to the city and see what I can find out.”
“Sasha can get you into the city if you don’t find him before. I’m keeping Jacob back to keep an eye on Lucinda, in case any stragglers from Sampson’s enforcer crews get ideas.”
“I get the impression you’re going to have to drag Jacob away from that woman at this point. Where will you be?”
Moss looked over his shoulder. “Jenna and I have some catching up to do. Seems she wants to show me where you all live.”
Jenna nodded. “We’re going to keep weening people off the drugs. We can spread out our operation, with Nina taking my role in the south. I’m going back to Ripley.”
“Good,” Lexi said. “How’s Nina’s OCD?”
“Don’t worry about Nina. I’ll work with her. She’ll get some time back at the compound, if need be.”
“If it proves too daunting, I’ll send her back to the city for a stay at Mikael’s.”
“She beat it by herself the first time. We’ll get it done.”
“Do you think we made a mistake?” Lexi asked. “Bringing her in?”
Jenna turned to her long-time friend and adopted sister and smirked. “You know better. She’ll adapt. Give her time. She has plenty of it.”
“You’re right. I like Nina, so don’t get me wrong. I want her with us. Maybe put her on compound security for a while. She’d excel at it.”
Jenna nodded and waved the conversation away. Silence filled the air, save for birdsong and a light breeze through the leaves of the high oaks on the backside of the building.”
Moss faced Lexi. “I’m sorry I let them take your brother, Lexi.”
Lexi shook her head. “Doesn’t sound like you had much choice in the matter, Moss. We can spend our lives living in regret, or we can do something about it.”
“Well, I promise you one thing. Sasha won’t let anything happen to you, and she won’t stop until you tell her to.”
Lexi couldn’t suppress the grin crossing her face. The veritable ninja woman who’d spied on her for all those years hadn’t been concealing her admiring gaze like she’d managed at first. As she’d planned her journey and gathered supplies, Sasha had been right there next to her, the whole time. Every once in a while, Lexi would look up and find the woman’s deep brown eyes lingering on her.
Surprisingly, she’d found herself appreciating it. She hadn’t gone down a romantic road since Blake Jensen in Triangle City. Even then, it had been a relationship of convenience, one that served a mission. She hadn’t been interested in anyone on any real level in…
But it would have to wait. They were a team now. They had a new mission.
Jenna released Lexi’s hand and gripped her shoulder. “We’ll be here until you reach OK City. Use the radio towers and let us know what you find. If Sean didn’t make it to OK City, we can delay the trip home and come help you and Sasha track him down.”
“Will do.”
A memory of a snowy day in Triangle City flashed through her mind, when she’d just learned from Mikael Jensen that her brother had survived all these years, just to end up in the ultra-modern oasis resting in a sea of shit. She’d just run out of the government building, glancing past the wide, Roman columns of the courthouse atop the slew of concrete stairs, and spotted “William Graves” standing there, as if he’d been waiting around for her his whole life.
I’m coming, Sean.
EPILOGUE
The low-riding monster bounded along the same road upon which Sean and Moss had traversed just days before, en route to OK City to bust up a drug deal. Carson had ordered the rear cargo area cleared and had the soldiers shove Sean inside. His host had learned of Sean’s claustrophobia in OK City the last time he’d seen him, before Sean set off for Triangle City, two or three years ago. Sean had been told to get in the narrow trunk of The Beast so he could ride out of town undetected. Carson had seen it then.
What he hadn’t known was that Lexi had shoved him gently into a box every day for one of those years until he controlled the panic with meditation techniques and progressive exposure.
Sean let Carson think what he wanted. The pounding in his head didn’t leave him feeling very contentious, and the painkillers they’d given him had equated to aspirin. The bouncing and dodging of debris in the road had served only to increase the pounding of his head, but at least the blurry vision was gone now, and the rest of his body seemed uninjured. It wouldn’t be much longer before he’d face Alexandra Bingham again, and the apprehension resulting from his overactive imagination as to what his fate might be didn’t have him in the sunniest disposition.
“You alive back there, buddy?” Carson called from the second row of seats.
Sean didn’t answer.
Because fuck him.
“What, you don’t want to talk to your old friend? What the—!”
Sean jerked up from his prone position as he heard a whistling sound growing louder. Between the bobbing heads of sleeping OK City special forces, he saw a curving trail of smoke, and something cylindrical screaming toward the vehicle.
“Horde!” one of the soldiers screamed. “Incoming!”
The vehicle lurched, and Sean thought his teeth rattled as its front end jerked off the ground and slammed down again. Glass shattered and showered Sean all the way in the back as he wrapped his arms around his head and curled up into a ball. The vehicle lurched and bounced from side-to-side, tossing him around the cargo area until it finally came to a rest.
The back end of the truck flew open, and Sean blinked. Rolling hills surrounding broken roads and deep potholes called to him. He clambered toward the edge and kicked his leg over.
“Secure the prisoner!” Carson yelled. “We gotta get out of here!”
No one answered.
Sean snuck a look back to find the interior of the cabin splattered with blood. The soldier sitting next to Carson had a gap where one side of his head should have been. Blood streamed down from one of Carson’s ears.
Good. Fucking bastard.
Sean Stone clambered out the rear of the vehicle and thrust his hands out to break his fall as he tumbled and rolled beneath the truck. The underside was a burnt-up mess of metal, and between the narrower gap of the front
wheels, he spied taped boots running up the street toward the machine. Looking out the back, he saw a sinkhole they’d just navigated around, slowing the vehicle enough to be targeted by what was likely a shoulder-fired rocket.
“Secure the vehicle!” Someone yelled. “Take them alive, if you can!”
Sean crawled on his elbows and belly, using the assault truck as cover, hoping he could get to the lip of that sinkhole before they found him. His elbows ached as they pulled him along the rocky surface.
Not daring to look back, he focused on the broken black lip of asphalt, his haven, if he could reach it. He grabbed at the lip, pulled himself over, and prayed the drop wouldn’t be too bad. He thudded to the ground. Patting himself as he pushed his back up against the side of the massive gap of earth, he cringed against the rapid thumping in his head.
“Got one alive!” A voice yelled.
Sean curled himself up into a ball as the sounds of boots prattled along the road and mud, looking up, hoping no one would appear.
An average sized man with a long black beard, wearing filthy black pants and a forest green vest over a black shirt raised his rifle to Sean’s side.
“We got another one!” The man stepped forward. “Don’t move, buddy.”
Sean raised his hands. “Hey, I was their prisoner. I got no dog in this fight.”
The man raised his gun and swung it around. “Shut up.”
The butt flew toward Sean’s face, and the world was flooded in black.
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