After and Again (20 page)

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Authors: Michael McLellan

BOOK: After and Again
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  “Outstanding! A lighter, and it works?” Andy asked enthusiastically.

“Yea, sure,” Zack spun the wheel and demonstrated, then handed the lighter to the innkeeper.

“Ha ha, wonderful!” Andy said, taking the lighter and walking away with a smile on his face.

  Andy Gross came back with Zack’s food and beer a short time later, and also handed Zack a small hunk of gold. “I try to trade as fairly as possible sir—”

  “Zack” said Zack, not feeling comfortable with being called sir.

  “Very well, Zack, as I was saying, I like to trade fairly and feel that you had something coming back. Is that satisfactory?” Zack hefted the piece of gold having no idea what it was worth.

  “Uh, yea it’s fine,” he said.

  “Well then, enjoy your meal.” He started away from the table and then turned back. “I usually mind my own business, as it is good for my business, if you follow. I am a bit concerned however that you are planning to cross those men……that one man in particular. I have been here at this inn for my entire life; it was my father’s you see, and in that time I have been punched it the nose, and even almost stabbed once when I tried to stop one man from stabbing another man with a steak knife….for sleeping with his wife. But I have never been in terror like I was when I was standing in front of that man. I am not a religious person, but if I were, I would swear that he is the devil himself. No disrespect intended Zack, but you are very young and I fear that you alone may not be a match for such a man.”

  “Thank you for the words mister, but I really have to do this, and I’m not alone. Did you wonder how his face got like that?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Max, the wolf outside? Almost killed him. Look, I’m sorry mister, but I’m really hungry.”

  “Of course you are,” Andy said, and left Zack to his meal.

  Tal Miller halted his horse. He might have passed by and not noticed Grace tied to the hitching post, just another horse in a world full of horses; but a horse with a
wolf
lying right next to it! He thought he’d have to be asleep to have missed that.

  He tied up on the opposite side of the rail from Grace because he was unsure how the wolf would react. He dismounted and stood by his horse looking at the wolf. “Well, Max, looks like you an’ Zack finally came to an understanding.” Max, who had lifted his head when Tal arrived lowered it back down on his paws and closed his eyes.

  Tal walked into the familiar inn; he had been trading with Ernest Platt, Auburn’s leatherworker for years. The same man who had been pinned against the inn’s wall by a wolf that very afternoon.

  The inn was not busy and Tal saw Zack, intent on a plate of food, right away. He walked to the table.

  “Thought you might be needin some company,” he said, standing over Zack.

  “Wha— Tal! Jeez, what are you doing here? I mean, I’m glad to see you, but Martha….and the kids?”

   “Don’t you go worrying about any of that,” Tal said, taking a seat. “You and I will get Emily and take care of this Trask fella once an’ for all. “Gross!” Tal called to the innkeeper, who was back behind the bar. Bring me whatever he’s having.”

  Zack told Tal about how he’d come back to find Emily gone, the two Martin men dead, and Miranda barely clinging to life. He told him about Holly Sanderson taking the map and his guns, and how Max had tried to protect him from her. He also told him how Max seemed to truly trust him now.

  “Ha ha, had ‘im pinned against a wall did he?” Tal laughed heartily when Zack told him how Max had tried to protect Grace from the leatherworker. “Can we assume they’re still headed north on the road ya think?”

  “I guess so….I really don’t know, I wish I knew where this Crack was, whatever it is.”

  “Well, I think we should stable the horses for the night an’ then take off at a run tomorrow an’ try to make up some time.”

  “Max can’t keep up at a flat run.”

  “Hell, Zack, that wolf tracked you, what, seventy or eighty miles? And into the forest? You can be sure he’ll catch up.”

  “I guess you’re right Tal….Okay, let’s do it like you said. Also, do you think that maybe we should warn folks here….you know, tell them what happened to Huntsville, and Payne’s Station, and those other towns that traveler told you about?”

  “Yea, I guess you’re right….we’ll tell Andy here at dinner, and half the town will know by tomorrow night at the same time. Ol’ Andy, he’s a talker.” Just then Andy Gross brought a plate and a mug to the table and set it down in front of Tal. “It’s good to see you again, Mr. Miller, I see that you two know each other.”

  “That we do, that we do.” Tal said, lifting his mug of beer.

  “Might I assume then, by your presence that you may be aiding Zack in his endeavor?”

  “Ya might assume exactly that Andy.” Tal said, and reached over and gave Zack a pat on the back.

  “Umm, Mr. Gross—” Zack began.

  “Andy, please.”

  “Okay, Andy, I guess Tal and I are going to stay here tonight, that is, if you have room.”

  “I surly do, Zack, plenty of room.”

  “Is this enough?” Zack asked, handing the innkeeper back the hunk of gold.

  “Perfect,” Andy replied, making the gold disappear into the pocket of his vest. “I’ll have the room prepared.”

  Zack and Tal, along with a sallow looking man who worked at the inn, took their belongings from the horses and put them in the room that had been readied for them. The room was small but clean; it was furnished with two pallets on the floor, a bureau, a desk, and a small fireplace. There was an iron rack stocked with logs on the hearth, and a single oil lamp on the bureau.

  With their gear stowed, they walked the horses up the street to the stables with Max walking behind drawing concerned looks from passers by. They chose the east side stable as Tal knew the owner Buck Peterson, reasonably well. “Tal, you old dog, how are ya?” Buck asked when they entered the stable. “And speakin’ of dogs, I hope that one there is with you?”

  “Hi, Buck, yea, the big mutts with us; he an’ Zack here are ‘bout inseparable these days. Zack, this here is Buck Peterson, an’ he runs clean stable….best I’ve seen next to my own.” Zack could see Tal’s struggle to keep his composure at the mention of his stable.

  “Pleased to meet you,” Zack said, releasing Grace and stepping forward with his hand out.

  “And you sir,” the burly stableman said, shaking Zack’s hand vigorously. Zack marveled at how much the man resembled Tal; heavy but muscular, big beard, in fact the only thing that stopped the resemblance from being uncanny was the fact that Buck Peterson was probably six feet tall when Tal Miller stood eye to eye with Zack at five eight.

  “How are things, Buck?” Tal asked.

  “Real fine, Tal, ‘sept for some crazy-mean son of a cur dog came in last week and took one ‘o my customer’s horses. Andy Gross down at the Mountain Rest say’s the same fella forced ‘im to feed ‘im for free….twice.

Dunno what things are comin to Tal, I tell ya.”

  Tal took the flask that Jonus had given him out of his back pocket and took a long swallow, then offered it to Zack, who declined, and then to Buck who also took a good pull. “Look, Buck,” he began, “We know about this vermin that took your customer’s horse, and it’s worse ‘n you can imagine.”

  Over the next half hour Tal and Zack told their story to the increasingly shocked looking stableman while he began housing the horses for the night. They began with the gang’s arrival at Payne’s Station and ended with the murdering of the Martins, and the current pursuit to save Emily. Both Zack and Tal instinctually left out any talk of the time-rip, for fear that they wouldn’t be taken seriously. When they were finished, Buck said,

  “Burned up the towns an’ killed everyone in ‘em…” he rubbed his beard anxiously. “I’ll be goddamned.” was all he could think of to say.

  That night at dinner they repeated the story to Andy Gross, who was ashen faced by the time they were finished and vowed to go to the town sheriff the first thing in the morning. “We have to protect ourselves from these men somehow,” he had said, “but how do you protect yourself from such monsters as these?” he looked at Zack and Tal almost pleadingly. “How?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

19

 

  Zack awoke to shouts from downstairs in the common room, breaking glass and what sounded like tables being turned over. Max was already standing at the door, growling, with his hackles up. “Get your gun.” Tal Miller said from behind him. “This don’t sound good.” Zack fumbled for his shirt and boots in the dark and quickly dressed, then reached into his pack and took the pistol out and stuffed it in his waistband. He put the pack on and cinched the ties down before going to the corner by the desk and grabbing the rifle.

  They heard a woman scream from somewhere across the road. “It’s them,” Zack and Tal said in unison.

 

  It was about an hour before dawn and Desmond Trask was moving in on the north side of town with twelve men, and Ben Grayson was moving in on the south side with twelve men. Ten more were moving from house to house in the small tract behind the town proper. They moved fast; using surprise, fear and violence to paralyze the townsfolk. The last four men, two with crossbows, were stationed at the stable. They were tasked with boarding up the windows and rear door, and locking in the people that were brought to them.

  Desmond Trask broke up his group, three to a building. He had Olsen with him because he didn’t trust him, and Brandon Locke because he did. They hit the mercantile first; like many of the shopkeepers, the owners of the mercantile lived in apartments above, and Trask slammed through the doorway at the top of the stairs without preamble, holding Toby Martin’s Winchester at his side. Frank Olsen came up the stairs behind him, and Locke was searching the mercantile itself for things that the Man might want.

“Search the rooms, Olsen,” Trask said, striding into the tiny kitchen where a middle aged man and woman sat at their breakfast. “Breakfasts over!” Trask exclaimed gleefully, grabbing the shocked man and throwing him across the room into the wall. “Let’s go, both of you, right now,” he commanded, grabbing the woman and shoving her toward the doorway. “You better get up and move your ass mister, or I’ll kill you where you lie.” The man got shakily to his feet and joined his wife at the doorway. 

  “Okay, downstairs and to the stable next door…Move!” Trask ordered, “Time’s up, Olsen, next building, let’s go!” he shouted over his shoulder. Desmond Trask whistled happily on his way down the stairs.

 

  “We have to get out of here,” Tal whispered, crouching by the door with the shotgun. “Let’s go to the room across the hall an’ we can jump out the window an’ be behind the building. Then we can make for the stable an’ get the horses.”

  “And just leave everyone to be butchered by Trask?” Zack asked incredulously. “No way, Tal.”

  “You ain’t gonna do Emily no good dead, Zack.”

  “Okay well let’s just see if we can do something, let’s go downstairs and see if we can help Andy first, and we can use the backdoor down there, I mean there has to be one right?”

  “Yea, probably through the kitchen.”

  “Okay, let’s go,” Zack said, trying to sound more confident than he felt.

  There were voices coming up the stairs and Tal whispered “Go” to Zack. They burst through the door with Max in front, still growling and poised for a fight. A lamp in the short hallway cast a dim light and they saw that two men were just reaching the landing less than five feet from where they now stood. The closer of the two men cried out in surprise as Max leapt on him, all snarls and gnashing teeth, intuitively knowing the enemy.

  Max and the first man tumbled down the stairs; the second man moved forward aggressively and then paused when he saw how the two in front of him were armed. Tal took advantage of the man’s hesitation and took a quick step and struck the man in the forehead with the heavy wood stock of the shotgun. The man crumpled on the landing, and Zack and Tal rushed past him down the stairs. The fight was already over between Max and the other man; who lay at the bottom of the stairs in the common room with his head at an impossible angle. They performed a quick search of the downstairs where the majority of the inn’s rooms were, including Andy Gross’ own suite. All of the rooms were empty and the common room was in disarray. Suddenly a voice from behind them shouted, “What’s going on here? Innkeeper?” They both turned, guns raised toward the voice; there was a man in a nightgown standing about halfway down the stairs.

  “Go get dressed and hurry if you want to live,” Zack said to the man, who turned at once—it was unclear whether it was to do what he was told or to get away from the two men holding guns.

  They could hear commotion outside and Tal went to the window that faced the road. “They’re taking folks out of the house across the road an’ hurrying ‘em up towards the north end of town. Suns about to come up, we need to go.” The man from upstairs came down still pulling a shirt over his head.

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