World in Tatters Ch.2

I pull Rachel aside out of earshot of our prisoner. “Rach, you should go help Jason. I have some things I need to discuss with our guest here, and I don’t think you need to see this.”

“Why? You aren’t going to torture him. You don’t have the stomach for that.”

“I’ll do whatever I have to do. His people attacked my family. I will do anything to make sure that doesn’t happen again. Now go, please.”

“Fine.” With that, she storms out of the house, and I return to my potentially grisly task. Realizing I still had my sidearm clutched in my fist, I make sure to holster it before questioning the boy.

I stare down at him for a long moment, studying his features, his demeanor. All indicators say that he’s terrified of me, but fear can be faked. His brownish hair sticks to his neck as sweat accumulates around his collar.

“So, kid, you have a name?”

“My name’s Chris.” He stutters. “Who are you people?”

“We’re the ones that your friends just attacked. You saw that girl? About your age? If I hadn’t stopped them, they could have—”

“What? Those guys aren’t my friends. I hardly know them. I had no idea they would do something like that.”

“If you hardly know them, why are you travelling with them?”

“They hired me to care for their horses. I’ve only been with them for a few days. I needed the payment. We travelled here from Picayune. I think we were just passing through.”

His words seem genuine enough. His body language, subdued as it may be by his restraints, suggests he’s trying to distance himself from the perpetrators.

“Alright, let’s say I believe you. Do you know who these guys were?”

“Yeah. They’re a group of mercenaries. I think they work for the Hattiesburg government.”

“Are there any more of them?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so. I only met the five of them.”

“Alright. Where did you meet them? What was the job?”

“I met them at the stables in Picayune. I worked there for a few months, but their leader convinced my boss to let me go for a bit. I had no idea how bad they were. I swear.” Oddly enough, I actually do believe him. Something about the way he’s squirming and the way he’s basically begging me to believe him, tells me that this is just some terrified kid. Some terrified kid that got dragged into the wrong crowd.

“Chris, I need you to focus. What was their mission? Where were they going?”

“I-I don’t know. I don’t know. They never told me. Wait! Their boss carried around a notebook. I think he kept his records in there. He kept it on him all the time. Either in his pocket or his saddlebag.”

“Okay. Do you remember what their leader looked like?”

“Yeah. I think so. Why?”

“If I show you the bodies, would you be able to identify him?”

“Definitely.” He squeaks, eager to please his captor. I pull my knife from its sheath on the back of my belt, and Chris flinches, trying to pull back against his restraints. “Woah! What are you doing!?”

“Calm down. I am going to cut you loose. I’m taking you to the bodies of those dead mercenaries. You are going to identify the leader for me. Okay?”

“Okay. I can do that.”

I move to cut the tape restraining his feet first to avoid a surprise attack from above. Before cutting the restraints, “Don’t try anything stupid. So far, you seem like a good kid. I’m not going to hurt you as long as you cooperate.”

“Okay. I won’t fight you. I’ll do what you want.”

“Good.” I cut all four restraints, allowing him to move freely. He rubs his wrists and pulls the remaining tape from his ankles. I re-sheath my knife, draw my sidearm and brandish it, waving him along. “Alright, now, come on. Hands on your head. Walk where I tell you.”

I put him out in front of me and begin to guide him toward the back door. We exit the house and proceed around the corner to the place Rachel shot the last mercenary. The body is lying face down in the tall grass. I direct Chris to the other side of the corpse and flip it over with my foot. The dead man was scruffy: unkempt beard, scraggly hair, face smeared with blood and dirt.

“Is this him? The man who hired you.”

“No. This was just one of the grunts. The leader had a well-kept beard, trimmed hair. This guy is always a mess.”

“Alright. Let’s move on. Two other bodies are over there.” I gesture with my free hand in the direction of the two men I shot. Chris seems shaken, queasy even, at the sight of the dead man. I don’t know who this kid is, but the longer I’m with him, the less of a threat he appears. There’s something about him that makes me want to trust him, or at least believe his story. Maybe it’s because he is just a kid. Maybe I see something else behind his eyes, but I honestly don’t think he means us any harm. We move to the second body, walking swiftly through the tall grass.

The next two men are only a few feet from each other. The first is a tall blonde man, clean shaven, eyes glazed over in a death stare, lying face up with his arm lying across his chest, revolver still clutched in his limp fist. The second lies on his side, his back facing us, about six feet from the first. I guide Chris around the body to get a better look. The man has long, thick black hair tied back behind his head. He has a small goatee, but no other facial hair. Chris is visibly rattled by the sight of the dead men lying there before him.

“Well?” I call to Chris.

“No, not here either.”

“There are two more back inside. Let’s go.” I guide him back to the door and through the house toward the large bedroom where the mercenaries held Jason and Rachel earlier. The door is cracked open lending the glow of the bright morning sun to the hallway outside the room. On my instruction, Chris slowly opens the door and steps in. I follow close behind him. From the doorway, I can’t see the full result of the skirmish. I instruct Chris to take a few more steps into the room.

The stench of blood is overwhelming. Chris covers his nose before stepping around the bed. The moment he does, he gets a full view of what my rifle is capable of. Chris quickly spins around and promptly vomits all over the floor. He steadies himself with a hand against the back wall. Curious as to what caused such a violent reaction, I step forward around the side of the bed and see for the first time the full effect of my bullet.

It looked as if one side of the man’s face had exploded. I admit, I am starting to feel a bit queasy myself. I have killed before, when I‘ve had to. Most of the time, though, I don’t have to look at the outcome. This is the first time that I have seen the result of a headshot from the hunting rifle. It’s horrific, but I have to focus. I need Chris to focus.

“Chris. Chris, listen to me. I need you to identify the man on the floor over there. I need you to tell me if that’s the man who hired you.”

“Did you do that? That guy on the bed. Did you do that?” It was more an accusation than a question.

“Yes, I did. I saw these men attacking family, so I did what I had to do. Rachel took his knife and killed the other.” I deliberately shift my tone, assuming one of calming empathy. “Don’t think about that right now. I need you to focus. I need to know if that’s the leader.”

“Yeah. I think so. I think that’s him.”

“Chris, I need you to be sure. Is that the man who hired you?”

“Yes, that’s him I’m sure of it.”

“Alright. Come with me.” We exit the room and make our way down the hallway to the smaller bedroom on the left side. “Chris, come in here and sit down. You don’t look so good.”

“Thanks.” Chris and I enter the room. The ancient mattress creaks as he collapses onto it.

“I am going to go check their leader’s pockets. I need to find that ledger. If I ask you to wait here, will you do that without running off?”

“Yeah, sure. I have nowhere else to go anyway.”

“Fair enough.” I start to leave the room, but turn back to say, “If you are lying to me, I will beat you. If you try to run, I will track you down then beat you. Understood?”

His eyes shoot wide as he swallows hard. “Understood.”

“Okay, now that that’s settled, I have a corpse to search. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

I leave the bedroom and shut the door behind me. I hate searching dead bodies. The sad part is that it happens way more than anyone might think. After a while, it gets old.

I reenter the room with the splattered gore and cross to the man Chris designated as the leader of the mercenaries. He’s covered in his own blood. With as deep and wide as the gash in his throat is, it almost seems as though his head hangs by nothing more than a few sinews of flesh. There’s blood everywhere. Arterial spurts shooting most of the way up to the ceiling. The man’s shirt, once a dirty white, and canvas vest, once a light khaki, now stained the deep crimson attributed only to blood.

I kneel down next to the bandit and steady myself. I’ve never gotten used to this part. I hope for my sake that I never do. The stench is so overpowering that I have to pull my bandana up over my nose and mouth. I start with his pants pockets.

First, left. I pull out a leather pouch. Inside it, I find some sort of identification. The boy was right. They were mercenaries. Specifically, bounty hunters, licensed out of Hattiesburg. These papers prove it. But, what were they doing here?

Next, the right. There are a few coins, a ball of lint, and some dirt. How helpful. I pocket the coins, wipe the dirt from my hands, and move on to the vest.

The blood-soaked vest. Of course it had to come to the blood-soaked vest. The first two pockets were empty save for some lint. The last held exactly what I was looking for: a small black, leather-bound notebook. The pages sticking from the blood, I thumb through it as carefully as possible without ripping the pages, until I come to the last entry.

It was the contract which brought these beasts to our doorstep today. The first part is difficult to read. The blood blotted out the name of who put out the contract, but the targets of this contract is far too clear. This isn’t good.

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Reward— Negotiable

Targets—Steven Tucker, Rachel Tucker, Jason Richards

Conditions— To be brought in ALIVE

Last Known Location—McNeil Tent Camp

Reason—Wanted for crimes against the Atlanta Alliance

I don’t know who put out the contract, but this may not even be sanctioned by their government. I’ve never known the Alliance to put out bounty contracts. They just send their agents then use the local lawkeepers to track their targets.

Something isn’t sitting right with me. The only crimes we’ve committed in Alliance jurisdiction have been minor. Poaching, scavenging, crimes of survival, but nothing that would warrant something like this. There were no pictures or descriptions accompanying the contract, so I don’t think these hunters even knew who we were. At any rate, this is not good for us. If there is one group of bounty hunters, there may be others. We have to leave.

I stand up to leave the gore splattered bedroom and quickly make my way back through the hallway. I swing the door open to the room where I left the boy.

“Chris, come with me. Now. Hurry up.”

Hysterically. “What’s going on? I told you the truth! Please, don’t—“

“I’m not going to hurt you. Come on!”

I rush him out of the room and out the back toward where Rachel and Jason are waiting.

“We have to go. Now. Pack everything up, and come on. Rachel, get our horses. Jason, Chris, get the other horses ready to leave. I’ll explain everything when we find a safe camp.”

Jason, frantically confused, “Steven! Slow down. Why did you let the kid free? What’s going on? What did you find?”

“Those men, the ones we just killed, were bounty hunters. They were here looking for us. I don’t know why, I don’t know who they worked for, but it doesn’t matter. We have to go, before more of them show up. So, get to it. We need to find a camp before nightfall. We’ll continue on to Picayune, sell the extra horses, then we move on before someone recognizes us.”

Rachel, gesturing to Chris, “What about him?”

“We take him with us, as far as Picayune. From there, I don’t care what we do with him.”

Rachel, “Do you really think we can trust him?”

“Are you kidding me? We just met him. And under the worst possible circumstances.” Shaking my head, “At any rate, he’s from Picayune. He could be of some use to us once we get there. Until then, he stays with us. Now, do what I say. Go ready the supplies.”

“Fine.” With a last distrustful look back toward Chris, Rachel runs off to pack up.

“Jason, take Chris with you. Pack up anything useful from the house, and be ready to leave in twenty minutes. I’m going to go scout the road, make sure that group of mercs were alone.”

“Wait!” Exclaimed Jason. “When you went scouting earlier, you took the main road right?”

“Of course. It’s the only road in or out of here.”

Chris, “Only road, maybe, but not the only way in or out.”

“What do you mean?”

“We didn’t come through on the main road. Think about it. We would have seen you, or rather, you would have seen us.”

“Then, how—?”

“There’s an old deer trail. A shortcut I showed them. Only locals know about it. It cuts straight from this neighborhood to the ancient highway, just outside Picayune.”

Jason, “That’s how they got past you. Because they were never on that road.”

“Chris, show me. Jason, twenty minutes.”

Jason, “We’ll be ready.”

Chris, “This way.”

With a gesture, Chris and I are off, jogging toward the tree-line behind the house. We’re only about thirty yards away before I even notice the break in the trees. It’s no more than a few feet wide, but it’s there.

“This is it. I know it’s narrow here, but it widens some when you get farther in.”

“Thanks. I’ll take it from here. Go help the others. Tell them I said to meet here at the trail head. I’m going to scout further on to make sure there aren’t any more surprises today.”

Chris starts toward the house without another word. I pull the hunting rifle from my shoulder and make my way onto the old deer path. I don’t hear anything. I move quietly through the brush. I won’t miss anything. Not this time.