A group of them, more than Dominic could count on one hand, came around the bend and saw him standing over the massacred bodies of their squad mates. They opened fire. Dominic dove for the underside of the nearby hovel as bullets tore into the ground around him. He navigated the burning support pillars as the deadly projectiles snapped through the air, missing him by inches. The pillars were fracturing, disintegrating beneath the flames. Any second now and the whole damn place would come down on top of him. Just a few more feet until he hit fresh air and sunlight. He rolled from beneath the structure as it collapsed at his heels. The impact sent out a mushroom cloud of black smoke, obscuring him from the view of his attackers.
The town hall was directly across the way. It’d gone completely untarnished. Dominic clambered to his feet and broke into a labored sprint. Razorblades jostled around in his lungs with every footfall and ragged breath. He hit the doors just as his pursuers were emerging from the smoke and debris, dropping to the floor as the bullets started flying. Scattered blots of sunlight began to decorate the floor as they punched holes in the wall behind him. He began propelling himself down the center aisle using his knees and elbows. The long benches on either side of him weren’t much of a shield, but he wasn’t exactly flush with options. The lone window to his right exploded. The shouting from outside swept into the room.
“Check for another way in.”
“There is no other way in.”
“Through the window.”
“I ain’t going through a window, not against this guy!”
“Forget it, we’ve got him locked up tight, he’s not getting out of there, not in one piece anyway.”
Dominic’s ultimate destination was the lectern at the front of the room. He could make his stand there. He rolled up onto the stage as two of the soldiers shouldered their way through the door. They ran sideways, firing frantically. The shots were wildly off their intended mark. Dominic remained calm as the bullets tore up the stage around him, breathing out slow as he dropped his elbows.
He squeezed the trigger.
: : : pop: : : : : : pop: : : : : : pop: : :
The shots stitched the first shooter diagonally, from the right side of his chest to the bottom of his throat. The impact threw him against the wall. He slid to the ground, leaving a thick smear of carnage in his wake.
The second shooter went into a combat roll and took up cover behind one of the rear benches. Dominic rolled left as a barrage split the lectern in half above his head, raining splinters of wood down on top of him. He shot the second soldier through the bench, knocking him back on to his ass. The soldier stood up on rubbery legs. He appeared to be in shock as he looked down at the gaping wound pissing blood from the center of his chest. Dominic fired again, blowing the top of his head off.
Something heavy crashed against the side of the building. A few seconds passed and then something else hit. Dominic’s mind raced back to Genesis, to the pub, to the distillery, to the wall coming down on top of him.
“Not again!” He dove right, landed on his stomach, and curled his arms across the top of his head. The blast sent a tidal wave of debris sailing across the room. Shards of glass skimmed the top of Dominic’s elbows before embedding in the opposite wall. He couldn’t afford to remain there, huddled like a child during a storm. He rolled to his back and sat up. His gun was cradled under one arm. The shouts of his enemy were muffled music, suppressed by the concussion of the blast. The Union boys were storming the breach and firing blind. To Dominic they appeared as hazy outlines, flowing over the hill of wreckage, their features concealed by the sun drenched smoke still swimming in the air.
A target was a target.
Dominic picked one. He went down screaming.
Then he picked another.
And another.
They ducked and dodged. They moved to the left and then to the right, holding their weapons at awkward angles, trying to shoot without being shot.
Another went down screaming.
Then another.
Dominic dropped the magazine on his rifle and slammed a fresh one home.
“Back out! Back out!”
Dominic could see the faint outlines of the last two soldiers as they scampered backwards towards the light. They held their rifles above their heads, firing in big dramatic fans. Once they made it outside, they took up cover on either side of the breach, their backs planted firmly against the wall.
“You sonofabitch, you just wait until we get our hands on you!”
“You Union boys are slow learners.” Dominic moved away from the shattered lectern, taking a position down between the seats. He propped up on the arm of one of the benches and waited.
Four shots rang out.
: : : pop-pop: : : pause : : : pop-pop: : :
“Dominic, it’s clear!”
He’d never been happier to hear Lerah’s voice.
She was standing with a sea of burning hovels at her back. She had Perkins in front of her on his knees; her pistol was pressed against the back of his skull. Her face was bruised and battered. She looked shaken but capable; the two guards lying dead on either side of Dominic were a testament to that.
“You good?”
“Yeah, I’m good. I had to put a knife in his arm.”
“I’m sure he earned it.”
“So, what now?”
“Put him down and let’s get back on the road.”
“Wait, what? Execute him? No, I can’t do that. We saved the settlers. The situation is diffused. I can explain this to Hause and to my father. I can explain us defending ourselves. I can’t explain the field execution of one of our Captains.”
“He’ll arm himself and he’ll come for us; he’ll haunt us all the way to Reeman. Or worse, he’s going to go back to Genesis, twist the story however it suits him, and come back for us with an army.”
Lerah shook her head. “We’ll have to deal with it. This man is not a threat. He is wounded and he is unarmed. Executing him will make us no better than the bastards we just killed.”
Perkins smiled, revealing two sets of bloody teeth. “Kill me, don’t kill me, both of you are already dead. Your bodies will hang from the walls of Genesis.” He looked around at the corpses of his soldiers as he spoke. “You’re a traitorous whore, Lerah. Your father can’t save you. Not after this. You’ll be passed around by our boys in the dungeon. Your ass will be so raw that you’ll beg us for death; you’ll go out with a smile on your face. And as for this motherless fuck, this animal, it’s going to be slow. They’ll bleed you of every last drop you’ve got in your miserable fucking body. Scalpels, hammers, pliers, saws, and good old fashion fists… you’ve never felt the kind of pain they’re going to bring down on your head. You’ll die screaming, just like my men did. Kill me, let me live, it doesn’t matter. Your death warrants were signed the moment you walked on to my fucking field!” He spat at Dominic’s shoes and missed.
Lerah looked to Dominic. She looked at the back of Perkin’s head. Her finger rattled, hovering just above the trigger.
She knew what had to be done, but she wasn’t going to be the one to do it.
“It’s okay. Just go.”
She nodded and holstered her pistol.
Dominic waited until she disappeared from view, then he pumped nine rounds into Perkin’s chest.
As Dominic was walking to meet Lerah he caught a burst of movement out of the corner of his right eye. He dropped down to one knee and made the rifle ready.
Two shirtless Union boys emerged from behind scattered pieces of a collapsed wall; the naked body of some sexual conquest was broken, lying at their feet. They raised their hands at the sight of Dominic. One of them was still doing up his pants, a splash of blood standing out against the crotch.
“Now hang on. We’re unarmed. You’ll get no fuss from us.”
Dominic didn’t let up on the trigger until the magazine clicked empty.
“What was that about?” Lerah asked as she handed him his pack.
“Is Perkins dead?”
“Yeah, he’s dead.”
She gave a weak nod and started back towards the road.
“You okay with that?”
“I’m fine.”
She didn’t sound fine, but Dominic didn’t push it. They’d just killed a whole lot of her people. He counted it a small miracle that she was still standing beside him. He hiked his pack up and checked the sun’s position in the sky. “This is definitely going to put us back a bit.” He was stretching for conversation, trying to make everything okay, trying to bring the needle back down out of the red.
Minutes passed and still, she said nothing.
Dominic gave up after that. Perhaps time would do what his words couldn’t.
26
Blake stood near Mother in the middle of the town square, next to Zach and Toby. A layer of red faced Watchmen formed a circle around them, holding back the crowd.
Zach wasn’t his usual cocky self. He kept his eyes pointed at his feet, stealing the occasional glance over the tops of his eyelids, wringing his hands together. Blake had never seen him in such a state. It almost made him seem human.
Toby didn’t seem to notice his brother’s plight, or the crowd, or Mother. He seemed to be soaring above them, grinning like a fool. He was Mother’s go-to guy. Her personal guard. Her only guard. Soon all of Reeman would know it.
Mother was turning circles, addressing the crowd. “Today has been a day-of-days, has it not?”
Cheers and celebratory fists rose into the air.
“The waters of heaven were poured out upon us. Our Father smiles, He is pleased. We are a sweet taste upon His lips.” Mother fanned her hands up and down, quieting the mob. “Listen very closely. This was not always the case. Most of you bore witness to the unfortunate events that took place within our Creator’s house last night.” She paused while the crowd nodded and confirmed their knowledge of the incident in question.”You saw the violence committed. You watched as a dear member of this community was injured. Our Father was not pleased. Last night, I sat before Him, beseeching Him not to turn His back on us. Do you hear what I’m saying to you?”
“Yes, Mother!”
“Thank-you!”
“I said, and listen to me now, I sat before him. I beseeched him.” She began walking the circle, pointing her fingers at various members of the buzzing throng. “I beseeched him for you! For you, and you, and you, and you, and you, and you, for all of you! I beseeched him!”
The ground quaked and the air turned electric.
“He made me a deal. He told me, and this is important for all of you to understand, He told me that He would keep us close to His bosom and that He would pour his blessings out upon us, but He said we have to make it right. Specifically, He said that Zach had to make it right. But before I allow him to speak, let me assure you that Zach is no longer one of my personal guard. He no longer speaks on my behalf. As of tonight, he will be taking a place on the wall with the men of the Watch. I hope that will bring some small comfort to all of you, especially to you and your family, Terrence.”
Terrence’s nose was a swollen mess of meat, with ribbons of black and blue running across the bridge.
“Go on Zach, speak.” Mother shoved him towards Terrence.
Zach stood there, locking and unlocking his fingers, his knees clacking together. The words on his tongue presented themselves as rattling squeaks.
“Speak, boy!”
Zach flinched. “I just, well, I want to start out by saying how sorry I am. To Terrence and his wife, I’m sorry. To all of ya’ll, I’m sorry. I brought shame down on all of us.”
Toby had attempted a go at Terrence. The only reason he’d remained on his leash was because Zach had held him back. Now, here Zach stood, taking a load on his shoulders that didn’t entirely belong to him.
They’re both bad men. Why do I care who takes the hit? They’ve both got it coming.
“So, yeah, that’s about all I wanted to say. Hope ya’ll can forgive me. Hope Mother and our Father can forgive me… ya’ll have a goodnight.”
Zach turned to leave and take his place on the wall. Mother stepped in his path, laying her hands softly against his chest. “There will just be one more thing, my dear. Wait right there.”
His face bloomed. It seemed as if the tides had turned and he was going to be brought back into the fold.
Mother hooked her arm around Zach’s waist. “While his apology seemed genuine, and while it is suitable in the eyes of men, our Father demands more from us.”
A small commotion arose at the back of the crowd. The people were shifting left and right as two men from the Watch barreled their way through. The one in front was carrying something low, something heavy, his face strained with the effort. The inner part of the circle opened up for the men and their equipment, closing as soon as the last one was through. The men entered the circle behind Zach and began arranging their tools: a thick piece of log, a ball peen hammer, and a chisel.
Zach yanked away from Mother, his eyes moving wildly as he began putting the pieces of the puzzle together. “What is this shit?” Zach pointed to the log. The pear shaped man standing behind it was rubbing the hammer and chisel together in an excessive display of sinister intent.
“Language!” Mother slapped Zach with an open hand. “The Creator demands blood.”
“No! I apologized! I did it! Just like you told me! I made it right!”
Mother clapped her hands twice. “Toby, assist these men with your brother.” Two of the men guarding the inner part of the circle set their rifles down and closed in on Zach.
“Mother, you sure that I really need—”
“Toby! Do it! Or you’re next on the block.”
Zach stood, petrified. His eyes darted back and forth in their sockets. The guards approached him from either shoulder, their hands out, ready to make the grab.
Toby’s arms were turning in small circles, as if Zach’s body was made of thorns and he was trying to find a spot to grab on to. “I’m sorry man, make this easy.”
Zach lunged.
Toby recoiled, still afraid of his big brother.
The two guards caught Zach under either arm and yanked him back before he could do any damage. They began dragging him towards the log at the center of the circle as he kicked and bucked.
Toby charged into the fray, spurred on by the weakness he’d just demonstrated. “Come on, get him down!” Toby kneed Zach in the stomach and helped the guards spin him around. They kicked his knees away and forced him down over the makeshift altar.
“Right hand gentleman, get his right hand up. I want the fingers of the offending hand.” Mother cruised above the scene, tapping at her bottom lip.
Blake scanned the sea of faces for his wife and child, hoping Riley had taken Judith far away from the impending ugliness. A small blanket of comfort curled around his shoulders when his search came up empty.
“Last night, when I spoke with our Father, He told me that blood was the only appropriate payment for the debt my son incurred, a debt that all of us now owe. None of us are above His laws, not me and not my sons. Would you see justice done? Would you satisfy the will of our Father?”
It started as a slow clap. Then the cries for blood began to emerge. They were like a pack of dogs, turning on one of their own in exchange for a few choice morsels of hearsay revelation. They’d known Zach since he was a child, running around town with a wooden stick, slapping shins and poking butts. He’d been a little bastard back then too, but he’d been their little bastard. Now here they were, cheering his mutilation.
“Commence!” Mother cut the air with the blade of her hand.
Zach’s arm was wrestled straight and held in place by two of the guards, while Toby unrolled his fingers and forced his hand flat.
Zach screamed and tried to push himself up by his knees. He became desperate and attempted to bite his captors. Toby delivered
a blow to the side of his head that knocked him silly and turned his screams into slurred mumblings.
The pear shaped man with the multiple chins stepped forward, moistening his lips with his slug like tongue. Blake recognized him. He’d seen him loafing around the walls beneath the sun, with half moons of dark sweat staining the underarms of his tight fitting tunics. He couldn’t recall his name, Vic or Rick, something ick, something short and simple and appropriate.
Ick squatted down, like he was trying to wedge his wide butt into a narrow seat, his gut sagging between his knees like an overstuffed potato sack. He set the gleaming edge of the chisel against the joint of Zach’s right thumb.
“No, please! Momma, please make him stop!”
Ick looked to Mother one last time, perhaps to ensure that the fire of her resolve wasn’t waning.
Mother responded with thin lipped indignation. She didn’t like hesitation. She didn’t like being second guessed.
Ick received the message loud and clear. He was in a rush to appease her, paying little attention to detail. He brought the hammer down at a sloppy angle, only making a partial connection with the head of the chisel. The blade bit into Zach’s thumb, but it didn’t disconnect the finger. Not completely, at least.
Zach screamed and squirmed. His body shook back and forth as he tried to break free. The two guards and Toby were practically lying on top of him. The thumb was still connected by a thin piece of bone and tissue. As Zach struggled it flopped around, going one direction while the rest of his fingers went the other.
“Oh, come on now, Mick.” Mick! That’s the fat man’s name. “Don’t drag it out.” Toby said, losing his grip on Zach’s wrist.
“I slipped.”
“Get on with it!” Mother hissed.
Zach was breathing heavy, pounding his forehead against the wooden surface as he squealed for mercy.
The Fall of Man: The Saboteur Chronicles Book 1 Page 21