by Robert Clark
Cage unclipped the buckle on his holster and pulled his revolver free. He kept it low, but it was a definite warning. Don’t mess with us. Cece swung the shotgun round and held it two handed, ready for combat. A quick glance behind me told me Corser and his men had done the same with their weapons. Only Gail kept her weapon stowed.
I followed suit with the others and gripped the rifle. With the butt tucked into my shoulder, and my finger rested on the trigger guard, I felt a little more confident than I had before. But that confidence was quickly dashed when I saw something move through the trees.
‘There are more than nine,’ the Wolf snarled. ‘Probably more than twenty.’
‘No one has started shooting yet. We’ll be fine,’ I said.
‘Seven versus twenty. I wonder how well that will go?’
‘Cage has got this,’ I insisted. ‘He wouldn’t walk us into an ambush.’
‘Is that assumption coming from all these years being his ally, or are you basing it on sheer luck, I wonder?’
Cage slowed a little, allowing for the rest of us to bunch closer together. I didn’t like it. It made us more of a target, not less. The towering trees packed in, stealing the last of the evening light, and making our track much darker than normal. It felt surreal, like a dark magic had tainted the land we traversed, marking us for death.
My shoulder brushed against Gail’s backpack. She turned around and smiled at me. Couldn’t she feel it? Wasn’t she worried?
The whispers evolved into a faint chant. But it didn’t stop there. It grew louder and louder, until it was definitely distinguishable from the woodland rustling. I couldn’t make out the words, but there was a definite rhythm to it. I’d heard it’s kind before. Performed by sports teams in New Zealand, which were in turn taken from ancient Māori culture, the haka was a proclamation of strength and prowess, designed for intimidation. In other words, it was a war cry.
What the hell were we walking into?
‘My name is Maddox Cage,’ Cage shouted into the forest. ‘I am the leader of Second Solace, and we have come to talk to your leader.’
The war cry grew and grew, echoing through the trees with disorientating clarity.
‘We are not here to start a fight,’ Cage continued. ‘We have come to talk. I wish to speak with Hope.’
They started moving. Figures all around us closed in, some climbing down through the trees, others rising up from the forest overgrowth. I could see their faces, plastered with mud, eyes whiter than snow. In unison, they barked their terrifying haka.
Cage raised his revolver and pointed it at the sky. He fired a single shot. The noise cut through the war cry, bringing a sudden, unnerving silence.
‘I demand to speak to your leader, Hope,’ he bellowed. ‘Do not make me ask again.’
‘Calm down Maddox,’ called a woman’s voice from the darkness. ‘You are in no danger here.’
A lone figure emerged from the pack of strangers. Long robes the colour of dirt draped her slender body, stretching all the way down to her bare feet. Her head was shaven, with only a small patch of stubble covering her skull. She moved with ease, barely making an imprint in the snow beneath her feet. As she approached, I could see Cage tense up. His grip on the revolver tightened.
‘Please, lower your weapons,’ the woman spoke. Her voice was soft, yet there was something deadly in her words, like she could just as quickly snuff us all out if she so chose. ‘You asked to talk, did you not?’
Cage did not respond. He lowered his weapon and stashed it back in his holster.
‘That’s better,’ the woman said. Her eyes flickered across our group, lingering only a little longer over Gail and myself. ‘Please, allow me to introduce myself,’ she said as her eyes met mine. ‘My name is Hope, and welcome to salvation.’
Seventeen
Hope's Salvation
No one spoke. Hope smiled, revealing a set of dark, revolting teeth that only accentuated her bright, piercing eyes.
‘Please, lower your weapons,’ she said again.
I let go of the rifle and let it hang beside me. Behind me, I heard Corser and the two men do the same. Cece held onto her shotgun. Hope drifted closer to her. The two women didn’t speak. Instead, they let their eyes do all the talking. It was like a very tense, very uncomfortable staring contest that felt like it lasted forever.
‘Lower the weapon, Cecilia,’ Cage barked.
Cece submitted. The shotgun hung limp by her side. Hope smiled again. It was an unpleasant sight made all the worse by those decaying teeth.
‘That’s better,’ she cooed. ‘We wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt.’
There was a definite emphasis on the word hurt. The meaning resonated with everyone. We were outnumbered, and the ball was in their court. I looked around at the strangers. Like Hope, their clothes were ragged and their skin had the hardened look of a caveman. Not all were bald, but there was a definite tip in that style choice, and I had a running theory as to why. Most of them were unarmed. Those that were carried primitive weapons. Spears, bows and arrows seemed to be the most favoured weapons of choice. Nothing compared to the array of weaponry we had, but an arrow to the throat would do just as much damage as a bullet, and the end result would be the same.
‘We came here to talk,’ Said Cage to Hope. ‘We’ve done as you asked, so why don’t you show us a little courtesy and invite us in?’
‘Why Maddox, I was just about to,’ Hope replied. Her voice sent shivers down my spine. There was something haunting about her. The way she used Cage’s name only emphasised it. She was beyond his rules.
Her slight hand floated up and waved to her people, and like smoke in the wind, they disappeared from sight, leaving Hope alone with us. She bowed her head and twisted in the snow. Then she began to drift back the way she had come. Cage paused a beat and followed.
The path through the trees lasted another half hour, during which time no one spoke. The Wolf remained by my side, stalking the trees for signs of Hope’s people. He could feel them there, watching, waiting. I kept my eyes on Hope. She seemed unfazed by the temperature, which was definitely sub-zero. The rag adorning her slender body didn’t look thick. In a set of thermals, a woollen jumper, and a winter coat, I could still feel the claws of winter working into my skin. Something was definitely wrong with her.
Eventually, the trees parted, and the county of Hope came into view. The light of day had faded once more, making way for a truly breathtaking view of the Milky Way. The light of the moon cast down across the land, which only furthered my sense of unease.
Like Second Solace, much of what I saw was made from nature. Where it differed was in the quality. Instead of vast, timber structures, the people of Hope county lived in small huts. They rose out of the cold ground like warts on a face, which under a blanket of snow made them look like igloos. I knew the concept was sound. An igloo could raise the temperature inside by thirty degrees or so. Eskimos survived the harshest of winters because of them, but even they would agree you weren’t exactly left with a lot of space. There was no rhyme or reason to their positioning, as though each had been built on a whim by the occupants.
But Hope led us away from the sea of strangers and up a path to our left. The snow had been swept aside, leaving a dirt path for us to follow. I could see more paths twisting around between the huts like worms. As I looked around, I spotted a couple patches of grass flattened down and untouched by snow. Deconstructed huts or camp fires, maybe? Or was it something they didn’t want us to see?
The track rose up a small hill to some kind of monument at the top. The closer we moved, the clearer it became. Carved from a single tree trunk, the statue of a woman stood and looked out over the settlement. There were no prizes for guessing who it was supposed to be. The bald figure of Hope was clearly definable in the carving. A wistful expression adorned her wooden doppelgänger as she cast unmoving eyes out over the residents of Hope County. The real woman approached and stroked her fingers along the cont
ours of her tribute, then turned to look at her guests.
‘The hour is late, and you haven’t eaten,’ she said, making no mention of the statue. ‘My followers will bring your meal shortly, but for now I must speak with Maddox alone.’
‘I’m coming with you,’ said Cece. Her fingers twitched towards her shotgun.
‘No you won’t, Cecilia,’ said Cage. ‘Wait here with the others.’
Cece huffed, but conceded. Hope waved her hand towards a small building behind the statue and, together, she and Cage walked away. I looked at the group. Gail watched her father. Corser and the other two men eyed the statue, but made no attempt to follow their leader. Instead, they dropped their bags at the feet of the statue and sat down. Cece scowled at me, and walked away to look out at the settlement below.
I joined Corser and the others. He nodded at me as I sat down.
‘Stone, this is Turner and Davies,’ he said, pointing the two men in turn. They were both about the same age, which was to say mid-to-late forties, with hair as short as our daunting host. They nodded to me, but didn’t engage me in conversation.
‘What’s with this place?’ I asked, keeping my voice low in case anyone else overheard.
‘Like I said earlier, they’re hippy freaks, the lot of them,’ Corser snorted. ‘We shouldn’t have come here.’
‘They certainly don’t mind living rough,’ I said.
‘You wouldn’t either if you were high as a kite,’ said the man called Turner.
‘They’re high?’ I asked.
‘They started cooking the shit up when they were still with us,’ said Corser. ‘Some mixture of mushrooms local to these parts. It caused a lot of tension in the group. We had shit to do. You’ve got to have a level head at all times. They didn’t see it that way.’
There was movement down in the camp. The flickering glow of a dozen flame-lit torches moved around, then started to ascend the mount. As they grew closer, I saw they were carrying food.
‘Lady Hope asks that you stay for food,’ said the woman at the head of the group. Her age was difficult to guess. The dirt and scratches that adorned her skin made her look much older than I guessed her to be. Like her leader, she kept her hair short, and her clothes threadbare. In her hands, she held what looked to be a freshly cooked hare on a skewer. She held the offering out to no one in particular.
Gail took the leap. She took the meat in both hands, then bowed her head. The whole thing reminded me of ancient Japanese culture where respect was paramount. It felt oddly out of place in Montana. The woman took a step back, leaving Gail with the hare, and gestured to her people to bring the rest of the food. They did, placing an assortment of vegetables and other animals at our feet on what looked to be kiln-baked plates. A man that could have been my age, or somewhere within a ten-year ballpark stepped up to me and handed me a plate. On it were peas still in their pods, carrots and leeks. I took the plate and nodded to him, but he was already walking away.
Nobody spoke or moved until the Hope County citizens had retreated back down the mount. I looked around at the others, waiting for some kind of cue. Cece was the one to offer it.
‘Throw it all away,’ she hissed. ‘We will not eat their food.’
‘Cecilia, we're all starving,’ sighed Corser. ‘I'm not throwing away perfectly good meat because you've got a grudge.’
‘And what if they have poisoned it?’ she snapped. ‘They have done worse before. Now is the perfect opportunity for it. We could be dead by the morning.’
‘I'll risk death for a full stomach,’ said Turner. He bent down and tore off a cooked hare leg and stuffed it into his mouth. Cece seethed with rage as he chewed. ‘It tastes good enough to me,’ he said with a full mouth.
Gail giggled, and followed suit, which was enough for the group to tuck in. I picked up a carrot off the plate and bit into it. It tasted of dirt, but I couldn't taste any signs of poison. The only thing suspicious was how a group of primitive denizens like these could grow vegetables in the middle of winter.
But questioning the origin of the meal did little to stop the group from devouring most of it. Eventually, Cece decided that hungry belligerence wasn’t worth the effort. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched her pick the meat off one of the hares, and clean off a plate of potatoes. Only once every last member had had their fill did Cage return.
He looked tired. The kind of exhaustion you get from a tedious conversation, or a dull, repetitive task. Cece hustled over, and the pair shared a quiet, brief conversation, but whatever she quizzed him on, he deemed prevalent for the whole group. He walked over and surveyed the empty plates stacked in a pile beside Gail. He took a knee beside his daughter, and with a subtle wave of the hand, ushered us close.
‘Good meal?’ he asked when we were all in range.
‘I suspected a trap,’ Cece snarled, ‘but the others were too gullible. For all we know, they could be poisoned.’
‘I seem to remember seeing you eating too, Cecilia,’ said Corser.
Cece scowled, but Cage raised a hand before she could reply.
‘The food ain’t tainted,’ he said. ‘We don’t need to worry about that.’
‘How did it go with Hope?’ I asked.
‘She claims they had nothing to do with the attack,’ said Cage. ‘Now, there’s saying and there’s believing, but my gut instinct tells me they’re kosher. They ain’t got the tools or equipment to hit us where we live. They only managed it last time because they were residents. And I find it hard to believe they’ve got the motive. We aren’t their problem anymore.’
‘Was that why we came here?’ Asked Turner.
‘We needed to be certain, and now I believe we are,’ said Cage. ‘And besides, these people were ours once upon a time. It’s good to know they’re still doing well.’
Cece exhaled like a bull. Cage clapped his mammoth hand on her shoulder.
‘Having a team meeting?’ Called Hope. I looked up and saw her close by. Much too close for normal. Usually, the Wolf picked up on people approaching, but she had snuck up on the both of us. Her presence surprised Cage too, who stood abruptly and looked at her.
‘Hope,’ he said. ‘I didn’t see you there.’
‘I’m sorry to have spooked you, Maddox. But I was hoping to speak to your newcomer, if that would be alright with you?’
She looked at me and smiled again. In the darkness, her teeth were barely visible. It was not a flattering look.
‘Of course you can,’ Cage barked. ‘Stone, that okay with you?’
‘Sure,’ I said with a shrug.
Hope bowed her head in the same way her followers had earlier, and turned back in the direction she had come. I followed close behind, heading for the same building she and Cage had gone to earlier. Unlike the mud huts, the building was built in a design closer to that found in Second Solace. The walls and roof supports had been built from huge slabs of timber, with a thick coat of moss covering the top. Inside, a small fire had been built to give the building a cosy, intimate feel. Hope sat down on one side of the fire, and gestured for me to take up the spot opposite.
‘I’m glad you agreed to speak with me,’ she said as I sat down.
‘I’m glad you didn’t murder us all on sight,’ I replied, instantly regretting it.
‘I would never murder innocent people,’ Hope replied.
‘I didn’t mean that you would. Sorry, I get weird around people who build statues of themselves.’
She gave me the kind of smile you give when someone’s baby accidentally vomits down your arm and you try not to care about it.
‘I trust Maddox didn’t tell you about our relationship?’ she asked.
‘Only that you used to live at Second Solace and had a bit of a falling out.’
‘Our relationship is more complicated than that. For example, did you know that I am Gail’s mother?’
‘I didn’t,’ I said, feeling truly taken aback by the news. Gail and Hope looked nothing alike. But then, Gai
l and Maddox didn’t either.
‘It is one of the reasons Maddox and I decided to create a new life,’ she said. ‘Gail was only a baby when we moved to Second Solace. It is all she has really known.’
‘Well, what a life it must have been,’ I said. ‘It’s such a lovely place.’
‘Her life could have been better, but I am not here to discuss that. She is free to make her own decision on where she chooses to live.’
‘Then what did you want to discuss?’ I asked.
‘Maddox tells me you arrived with his people just a few days ago. He tells me you are currently living with my daughter. I know the circumstances may not be conventional, but you are the first man to live with her, besides Maddox. I wanted to get to know you.’
‘If you're asking my intentions, I'll save you the worry. I'm married.’
‘Then where is your wife?’
Illegally held by the FBI until I murder your ex-partner.
‘It's complicated,’ I said.
‘Complicated,’ she mused. ‘Maddox said you had a complicated past. It would appear you are quite the troublemaker.’
‘I could say the same about you.’
There was a flicker in her eyes. The embers of a long-dormant fire glowing. She didn't like her ego challenged.
‘My past is my own, as is yours,’ she sniffed. ‘But you mistook the intentions of my earlier question. I want to know the man sitting before me. Not the legend that follows you like a shadow. When Maddox and I started on our journey together, we did so with a common interest. And while our paths may have split, our goal is still the same. We wish to create a better society. The one you come from, it is dirty, it is sullied. It cannot be allowed to continue unchecked. It shall beget a race of detritus. Our goal, just as it has always been, is to uphold our former glory so that humanity as a whole can continue. It is a goal Maddox and I are very passionate about, and it is imperative that you - or anyone who joins the fight - believes in this, and is willing to sacrifice everything for it.’
‘You want to know if I would die for Cage's cause?’ I asked.