by Maira Dawn
Skye looked up and scanned the room. People were confused. This was supposed to be an open and shut case. Now they seemed uncertain.
Skye's insides turned to jelly. This was not supposed to be happening!
Sixteen
Attacks
The court was silent. Skye's hand tightened on the arm of her chair. If she were in that audience, she wasn't sure what she would be thinking. While Calvin was busy posturing for the crowd, she looked up at Judge Munson. He gave her a slight nod.
Once his dramatic pause had the desired result, Calvin went back to talking, describing just how scared he and the others were of her and Jesse. It was ridiculous but effective. The courtroom was riveted on every word that came from his mouth.
Skye shook her head. He must have sold a lot of cars back in the day.
Another glance at the judge told her he was waiting for her move. She watched as Calvin’s exaggerated gestures and felt her stomach churn. It would need to be good.
Wait for it, Dylan always said. When your moment comes, you'll know it.
Skye hauled in a deep breath. This was her moment.
She straightened in her hard wooden chair, changing her demeanor from a cowering, frightened woman to a confident one.
“You and the others tried to murder me,” she said. “You viciously attacked both Jesse and I with the intent of further assault. And held me at gunpoint, shot me, and left me for dead. And you killed Jesse’s father.”
Skye’s heart raced as she continued, “All this you did with no provocation. Everything you have testified to is false except for one thing. We did meet on a deserted road. From that moment to this, you and the other — gentlemen— have done nothing but terrorize Jesse and me.”
"You tried to attack me, you tried to murder me," Calvin said, mocking her as he continued to face the crowd. Pete and Tony snickered in the background. "Believe me, if I wanted you assaulted or murdered, then that is what you would've been."
"Really? I don't remember a whole lot of follow through." A satisfied little glow started in Skye when he spun around, his eyebrows raised in surprise. "You tried a lot of things, but none of them seemed to work out. A girl and a little boy beat you every time."
Skye kept her eyes drilled on Calvin as his face became red.
Good. This was what she wanted. His attention solely on her. Let him forget the courtroom, the blustering. With them out of his thoughts, maybe he would start the bragging he did in the forest when there was just the five of them.
He wanted to put her in her place? She would show him just how out of place she was.
Putting on the haughtiest expression she was capable of, she provoked him.
"You talk a good game, Calvin, you sure do. But I've seen nothing of what you say you can do. If you want to be a big threat in the apocalypse, want me to be afraid, then you need to show me what I'm supposed to be afraid of."
Skye threw out a hand. “You want me on my knees? Tell me what I'm begging for! ‘Cause all I see is someone who's now recanting the only thing I have been afraid of."
She wrinkled her nose. “What a tiny, little nothing of a man you are.”
Calvin's face and neck flushed a deeper shade of red. His eyes seemed to protrude out of their sockets. He rushed at Skye, furious.
She stiffened, grateful for the protection of the people around her.
When he reached her, his speech was quick and angry, but quiet enough those in the front rows needed to lean forward to hear. "You're going to lose, just face it and be done."
Skye tossed her head as if she hadn't a care in the world and crossed her arms. With a little grin, she leaned forward and said, "Oh, I don't think so. Why was I ever afraid of you? What have you ever done, really? You can't even shoot straight!" She giggled as she sat back in her seat.
The veins on the side of his neck stood out as he stuttered, "You- You go back to that road you almost died on! Stop at any house you come to, and all you will find is the dead. Because death is all that we leave behind!"
"Pfft!" Skye rolled her eyes. "Here we go again!"
Calvin clamped iron fingers onto her upper arms and squeezed. She gasped but didn’t fight him. Not when she was so close to a breakthrough.
Dylan's chair rasped across the wood floor as he jumped from his seat. Judge Munson held a hand up to keep him from interrupting.
Gripping Skye tighter, Calvin shook her. His eyes brightened when she winced. "You think this is bad, little girl? Snobby little doctor? Be glad you aren't in Barbarton. The name kinda reminded me of barbaric, so I figured, why not."
She lowered her gaze so he couldn't see her gleam of triumph. He took it as submission and gave her a smug smile.
It was all she could do not to shake him off her. Say it, just say it!
"Barbartown. The lucky ones are the dead. We left a few alive in case we wanted to return. No one will fight us now. We are kings there, more than kings. Do you know why we are kings?"
"No," Skye said breathlessly, shaking her still lowered head. She was almost dizzy, stretched to her limits, as she waited, waited, waited for him to say the words.
Calvin pulled his hands from her as he reminisced. “We murdered. Butchered. In every way we could think of. Though I suppose there are a few ways left we could try." Pete chuckled as if taking pleasure in the memories. Tony groaned.
Skye leaned back in her seat. It was all over now. Her job was done.
Then the horror of his words sunk in. She recoiled as the evil man’s face lit, recalling every inhuman detail they had put the people of Barbartown through.
The judge finally stopped Calvin mid-sentence.
Sickened, but elated the scheme had worked, Skye stared at him.
Calvin glanced from Judge Munson to Skye to the crowd, the realization of what he’d said coming over him.
He froze for a moment before his hands curled into fists and his jaw clenched. A chill ran through Skye as she saw fury wash over him. His eyes came back to her. If it hadn't been personal before, it certainly was now.
Her heart slowed as she tried to scramble away. It was too late. Calvin drew his fist back and slammed her below the eye.
The force of the blow bounced her head against the desk, causing a second explosion in her skull. She slid to the floor limp, barely conscious.
Calvin leaped on her. He found the soft area of her stomach and pummeled her, leaving her fighting for breath. When Skye managed to curl into a ball, he went for her kidneys.
Dylan’s growl made its way through her pain and fear.
Calvin clenched at her as he was pulled away.
It had only been seconds, but Skye laid there broken, gasping for air. But even then, she knew how fortunate she was. If she and Jesse hadn’t gotten the upper hand that day on the road, who knew what further abuses these men’s monstrous imaginations would’ve heaped on them? Tears rolled down her cheeks as much for the town of Barbartown as for herself.
The obscenities Calvin screamed broke through her thoughts as Dylan and Wade dragged him further away. But no part of her felt sorry for him. Not even when his yells of anger turned to pain from the solid blows raining on him.
The people of Colton were taking revenge for the deaths of their neighboring town.
Seventeen
Fight
Skye lay gasping, her own strained breath the only thing she heard. Her head spun with such force the wooden floor and white ceiling seemed to mix.
She closed her eyes. She needed to hold it together. But passing out might be the better option. The nausea building in her stomach was almost beyond her control.
Feet pounded against the wood floor, coming toward her. Skye peeked an eye open. Dylan's beige shoes. He crouched down and reached for her. She realized then just how much she needed his soothing touch.
"Skye, darlin'." Dylan's tender voice almost caused her to cry. And although he was as gentle as he knew how to be as he folded her into his arms, a loud groan escaped her.
Sound rushed at her. It had been a selective thing a minute ago, her strained breathing and Dylan's footsteps the only things she heard. Now it all sped in. People shouting, babies crying, someone fighting. Skye lifted her eyes to see Tom and his two deputies jump on top of Calvin, who was a wild blur of hands and feet.
Skye watched, almost unattached, as the chained Pete and Tony threw themselves at the ball of men. Others from the crowd joined the melee.
When Jesse rushed toward the fight, her heart skipped a beat.
"Dylan!" she gasped out as she weakly grabbed his t-shirt and pulled.
Dylan was intent on his own mission to get her a doctor. He yelled across the room to Wade, not noticing her pathetic attempts to get his attention.
She raised a trembling hand and pulled his face toward her.
"Skye, what are you doing?"
Skye pointed to the bundle of fighting men. "Jesse! Jesse is in there."
Dylan's eyes widened. "No."
He took Skye toward the wall and sat her up against it, as far from the fight as possible. He whistled sharply to his brother. Wade was there in an instant, and Dylan nodded to the problem.
Dylan scanned the crowd and upon finding Tricia, waved her over. "Stay with Skye."
Then he followed Wade into the ever-growing battle.
Skye put a hand to her head as she tried to push away the overwhelming pain. After unsuccessfully searching for even a glimpse of Jesse, she said, "Oh, Tricia! What was he thinking?"
"He was thinkin' he's some great big fellow when he's only a little bitty one. A common defect of most young men and some older ones as well." She eyed the men with a wry grimace. "At this point, I'm thinking they're all just enjoying this, gettin' rid of all their tension."
"It's still dangerous."
"Um. Try telling them that."
Dylan and Wade made their way through the brawl, throwing punches and men out of their way. Wade grabbed the boy around the waist and pulled.
Jesse's fists still flew as he came, but Wade held him tight, hiking him up over his shoulder when he was clear of the conflict.
"Let me go! Let me go!" Jesse yelled as Wade carried him toward Skye. He pushed and wiggled as he tried to escape and rejoin the fight.
Wade gave him a little shake. "I know your blood is up, boy, but try 'n cool it down a bit. I can't let you go ‘til you settle."
Skye bit her cheek as Jesse eyed the fight, his chest heaving.
"Jesse," she said. "I need you. Could you help me, please?"
He huffed a few times. "Yeah."
Dylan made his way back to them, his hair wild. "Your stayin' put right here." He pointed from the boy to the floor beside Skye. "Wade and I need to help stop this thing."
"Let them get beat!" Jesse said to Dylan.
"I ain't saying they don't deserve everything they’re getting. But I want something left for the real punishment. I want them sweating in agony as they wait for it."
Jesse dropped to the floor, but his face was sullen. Skye raised a hand to brush his hair back, and he jerked from her as if in fear.
"Oh Jesse, are you okay?"
He frowned for a moment, then shook his head. "I don't think so."
"Come here, honey."
He sunk into Skye's arms. If she hurt a little bit more because of his weight, she didn't mind. Pulling his thick, dark hair back from his sweaty face, she examined a bruise already forming. "Are you hurt?"
"Nah. Not that. I just—When he hit you, the whole room turned red. I couldn't take it. All I could think is that I had to stop him."
Tears formed in her eyes. "It's okay, Jesse. You're okay now."
No matter how many sessions they would have, Jesse would always combat his own violent tendencies.
Dylan waved Wade on to help with the fight, which Tom was getting under control. He sat on the floor beside Jesse. "I get it, I do. But most times, you gotta fight those feelings. Try to think it through, no matter how tough it is to do."
"In this case, there is no cause for worry." Skye kissed the top of Jesse's head as she scanned the room. "The judge has it well in hand now."
They shot Skye a bewildered glance before looking at Judge Munson, just as he raised his arm into the air. The blast of his gun echoed through the room, numbing their ears.
Eighteen
Judgement
The ringing in Skye's ears seemed to go on and on. Most people had stopped, wincing at the pain the sound caused. Only the police moved, pulling people off the brawl until they reached Calvin, Tony, and Pete.
Though the three men were beaten, they weren't hurt as severely as Skye would have thought or hoped. They could still stand. She couldn't.
On the other hand, it was a testimony to the men beating on them. Yes, they were angry but not murderous. They wanted the prisoners final punishment to come through official channels.
As soon as the crowd calmed some, Judge Munson called the room to order. Skye wiggled herself up higher, holding her middle and groaning as she did so. But with a battered stomach on her front and bruised kidneys on her back, there was little she could do to find a comfortable way to sit.
"Darlin', let me take you out to the Doc." Dylan rose to help her up.
"Not yet, I want to see this. It's important."
Dylan hesitated. Skye was sure she didn't look too good if how she felt was any indication, but she didn't want to leave. "You wouldn't leave either if it was you."
"The second he's done talking, I'm taking you out of here, you got that?"
"Yes, sir," Skye said, playing along.
"Umm, I'm training you right."
Skye snickered and slapped his arm as he sunk down beside her. "Shut up."
Dylan laughed as he wrapped his arm around her, providing support. He kissed her neck and then murmured in her ear, "I'm worried about you."
"I know." Skye lay her head on his chest as she waited for the judgement to begin.
Judge Munson tapped his papers and cleared his throat. All eyes turned to him. Skye was so anxious to hear what he had to say she found herself holding her breath.
"For some men to be labeled human would be an inaccurate term. And so it is with you," the judge said. "Often when men have committed inhumanities, they are called animals. But this court would even hesitate to call you that. Because many times I have seen animals with more concern for their own, and others, than the three of you have had for your own kind.
"But you walk like men, you talk like men, you have the semblance of men, and as such, you will be judged.
"If this AgFlu is a plague, then your kind are the scourge that came behind it. Your own words have condemned you. You have visited death upon others, and now it comes for you.
"The humanity in me abhors the taking of any life, it says to let even these men live. Yet their victims cry out for justice.
"For them, I declare these men guilty.
"The Good Book says, ‘If a man injures his fellow man, then what he has done should be done to him. Fracture for fracture, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, the same sort of injury he inflicted should be inflicted on him. And if a man takes a human life, he should be put to death without fail. You will not feel sorry, life shall be for life.’
"I will heed its advice. I will not be sorry.
"You are hereby sentenced to death by firing squad.
"Further, I will stay for the execution. I personally need to see that the three of you no longer walk the face of this earth.
"May God have mercy on your souls, for I cannot."
Once the verdict was read, Skye nodded at Dylan. He picked her up, and she collapsed against him. "It's over. It's really over."
Dylan glanced down at her, compressing his lips into a thin line before he gruffly said, "It ain't over ‘til they're dead."
It didn't take long for the execution to be completed. Skye was patched up and lying in bed when she heard gunshots, and she knew without bein
g told, it was done.
Later when the men arrived home, there was an air about them, as if they were relieved that a long, arduous task was finished.
Skye realized the dark, angry cloud of those criminals had hung over Dylan and Wade, as much as her and Jesse, since that day on the road.
On that day, Dylan had declared he and Wade would kill the three criminals, and he had been right.
A deep chill settled over her, Dylan had also said she'd be sorry for not letting him go after them. She was. Look at what had happened to them because she'd been unable to keep up with the turning of the world.
Those evil men had gone on to hurt her and Jesse. But they had hurt others more.
If only she would've listened.
If Dylan had done things as he'd wished, Barbarton would have been spared.
But she'd insisted she knew better.
Guilt burned through her. The one death she knew she was responsible for had grown to so many. How many deaths was it now?
She clenched the grey blanket she huddled under as if she could find sanctuary there.
She'd never been able to atone for the girl's death. How could she atone for these?
Nineteen
Nightmares
That evening the nightmares began. It wasn’t a surprise to Skye—if anything, she was actually surprised they hadn’t started before now.
Some nights she woke up sobbing, her heart breaking, as she dreamed of the death of her mother and father. The AgFlu slowly changing them from healthy, loving people to drooling, wasted shells.
Other times, she was again in that forest by the store, gripping Jesse's hand. Sweat rolling down her body, hauling in breath after breath as they flee for their lives from Calvin, Tony, and Pete.
However, the most frightening nightmares were the ones in which her mind brought to life the horrors Calvin bragged about. Forced to watch the evils the men commit one by one, each of the victims pleading for Skye's help, and her helpless to do anything but watch their suffering.