Blood & Dust (Lonesome Ridge Book 2) (14 page)

“So what? What happened at Lonesome Ridge was different. They were warned. They were prepared. Somehow they knew what to expect and they knew we were coming. They were ready for us.”

“And how do you know that these people ain’t? How do we know that someone hasn’t already reached the town, that someone hasn’t already spilled our secrets so they could be prepared?”

Charity scoffed. “Who would do that? We’ve left no one alive until just now, and they haven’t had time. Besides, no one knows where we’re headed or why. They couldn’t follow us if they wanted to. And if someone was, we would have seen them by now, don’t you think?”

Norma laughed. “They couldn’t follow us? Of course they could. They could track us so easily. It’s not like we leave a small trail.”

The women were both growing angrier by the second as they spat words back and forth. Their voices raised to heights that almost hurt Jeremiah’s ears with each argument and counter argument.

“That’s impossible,” screeched Charity as she took a step toward Norma. “We would know. We would see them.”

Norma laughed again, this time right in Charity’s face. A tiny glob of spit flew from her mouth and landed on Charity’s cheek. “You don’t know anything. You’re so naive, raised in the city and treated like a little princess even when you moved out here. I bet you never had to work a day in your life. I bet you never even killed anything until you became like this. And now you think you’re the boss, the queen.” The last word dripped with disgusted sarcasm. “You’re worthless as a queen, Charity, and you’re going to get us all killed with your blood-thirsty stupidity.”

Charity’s hands were on Norma’s neck before she could finish the last word. The blond undead woman used the full force of her anger and bore the other girl to the ground as she leapt on top of her. The women shouted and screamed as they ripped at each other with hands and teeth.

The remaining undead gathered around the two grappling girls in a loose circle. They left the women plenty of space to roll and kept well out of arms reach.

“What’s going on? Norma!” Bill stepped forward from the crowd, but Jeremiah’s hand snaked out to grab his arm before he could reach them.

“They gotta fight it out,” he said as he pulled the younger man over to him. “They gotta do this alone. We can’t interfere or they might be liable to rip our heads clean off.”

He pulled Bill backward to give the women more space to battle. The match went on for quite some time as the sun sank toward the mountains, until Charity managed to roll herself over and on top of Norma.

“I am queen,” she snarled. Her hands were around the girl’s neck and she lifted her up and slammed her back down to the ground. “I am queen.” She slammed Norma down again. “I am queen. I am queen.” Each declaration of her leadership was punctuated by the thud of Norma’s skull smashing into the dry, packed earth.

The crowd around them remained silent and observant, waiting and watching. Most of them didn’t care who won. They just wanted to see who their leader would be. Jeremiah knew who he would pick if he was a bettin’ man, but he didn’t have high hopes that his pony would win the race. And those hopes faded with each thump.

Charity slammed Norma’s body down one last time with all the force she could muster, then she climbed to her feet with her legs straddling the broken body of her opponent.

“I. Am. Queen.” She glared at the undead around her, waiting. No one moved. Her eyes fell on Jeremiah and the fear in his stomach thundered up to his throat.

He dropped to a knee and bowed his head. “All hail the queen,” he said as loud as he could manage.

The others slowly followed suit, those that could dropping to one knee, the others just falling to the ground. The only one who echoed his words was Bill.

“All hail the queen,” the young man whispered, just loud enough for Charity to hear. His eyes were locked on the woman, not even sparing a glance for the body of his sister.

Charity smirked and kicked Norma’s corpse. “All hail the queen,” she said. Not a single undead offered complaint as she strode out into the hot sun and made a beeline for their next target. They all rose and followed without hesitation.

Jeremiah was sure they were heading to their doom.

CHAPTER 20

“Shit.” Jasper slammed and locked the door behind him as Hannah peaked out the barred windows of the jail house. “Shit, shit shit.” He threw his hat to the floor and slammed a fist into the wall. Pain raced up his arm to his elbow and he buried the hand in his armpit as he gritted his teeth against the tears that flooded into his eyes.

“It’ll be okay.” Hannah’s soft voice floated over to him from near the window.

He spun on her as anger and fear poured into him. “Robert’s dead, Hannah.” His voice was much, much louder than he intended it to be, but no matter how he tried, he couldn’t keep the words from flooding out of him in a torrent of anger. “Robert’s dead and Connor’s gone to who the hell knows where. Jeremiah is one of those things and God only knows what happened to Jed. The whole town expects me to save them from this hell we’ve ended up in and I have no fucking clue what I’m supposed to be doing. Not one God damned clue.”

His hand met hardwood again and this time he was unable to stop the cry that ripped from his lips. He sank to his knees and tucked his hand between his legs as his head fell against the wall.

“It’ll be okay,” Hannah said again, much closer this time. She knelt by his side and placed her hands on his shoulders. “I don’t know how, Jasper, and I don’t know when, but someday, somehow, we’ll be all right. We have to be. We don’t have any other choice. We either give up, or move on until we’re okay again. And we’re going to move on.”

Jasper stared at her for a moment before a small smile pulled at the corners of his lips. “I’d be lost without you,” he whispered. He pressed his forehead to hers and closed his eyes. “Oh, Hannah, what do we do? What do we do?”

An angry shout came from outside the door and a heavy fist fell against the wood in a steady rhythm. “Come out here and face us, sheriff. You have a lot of questions you need to be answerin’ and we’re not leavin’ til you do.” The word sheriff was said with such spite that it cut Jasper to the core.

“Was that Neil Avery?” Hannah asked in a hushed whisper as she frowned at the door.

Jasper nodded. “Sure sounded like it. He was one of Robert’s best friends. I bet he’s gonna kill me the moment I open that door.” He dropped his head into his uninjured hand. “I’m so dead.”

Hannah’s smile was sad and offered little comfort. “That’s a possibility. He definitely will if we don’t out there right now.” She climbed to her feet and offered Jasper her hand. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”

She led the way to the door and unlocked it. Neil Avery stood on the other side with his fist poised for another pounding knock. His face was a deep crimson and his eyes were swollen and bloodshot.

He opened his mouth as the door opened, ready to berate Jasper, but his words came out in a stutter when Hannah appeared in the doorway.

“Excuse me, Mr. Avery,” she said with a small smile. “If you wouldn’t mind stepping off the porch and joining the others, Jasper has a few things he would like to say to everyone.”

“I do?” Jasper mumbled behind her, keeping his voice low enough that only she and Neil Avery could hear.

She elbowed him in the ribs and gave Neil another smile. She made sure it wasn’t too big or too happy. “Please,” she said as she indicated the steps leading down the street with her free hand.

“What do I say?” Jasper whispered in her ear as Neil grumbled and stomped down the steps.

She half turned from the crowd so her face was hidden by Jasper’s body. “Tell them how sad you are about Robert, how you plan on finding the thing that did this and punishing the person who left their guard post last night. That even though you can’t make everything right, you can’t bring him back, you will make sure nothing like this every happens again.”

“How can I promise something like that? How do I know?”

Hannah’s smile disappeared and she glared at him. “You don’t know. You can’t. Just do it, Jasper. It’s what they need to hear.” She turned away before he could argue any further and walked to the edge of the steps with her head bowed. The people loved her almost as much as he did and having her on his side was his biggest asset.

Jasper stared at the crowd gathered in front of the jail house. It was literally everyone who was left in the town, minus the men guarding the wall. Even the children were gathered to hear what Jasper had to say. Sweat beaded on his forehead and dripped down his back and his hands shook, but after another look at Hannah, he took a deep breath and stepped forward.

The collective glare of all the citizens of Lonesome Ridge settled on him and he nearly withered where he stood. His insides melted into puddles as his gaze wandered over the crowd. These people were angry, really really angry, and he was going to get the full brunt of that anger if he didn’t act quickly.

He glanced over at Hannah again. Her head was still bowed, but her eyes were on him. She raised her eyebrows at him and he could almost feel her poking him in the ribs.

“I, uh,” he began. His voice cracked and he instinctively folded his hands into balls to stave off the nerves that threatened to swallow him. His injured fist hurt like hell and his eyes began to water, but he focused on that pain and used it to steady himself. He cleared his throat and started again. “I don’t even know where to begin,” he said. “Robert was a good man, a great man.”

The murmurs in the crowd hushed and the angry silence took on a heavy sadness.

“He was one of the best men I’ve ever known,” Jasper went on. “When our town was in need, he was there, no matter what. He never let a man, woman, or child starve and he would give the shirt off his back if he thought you needed it. We wouldn’t have made it through the last few weeks if it hadn’t been for Robert. He kept us strong, he kept us safe, all of us. He kept us sane. When those... those things, those vile wicked things came to our town, our home, he was there save us, to guide us. But we couldn’t save him. I couldn’t.” Jasper’s voice cracked again. The water in his eyes was not from his hand this time.

The crowd, so angry and ready for a lynching just moments before, hugged each other and cried as they waited for Jasper to continue. Hannah walked over and wrapped her arm around him. He drew strength from her touch and straightened his shoulders.

“I couldn’t save Robert,” he said. “Or his wife. But I will find the thing that did this. I will find it and I will kill it, for good this time. We will strengthen the wall, we will increase the guards if we have to. This will not happen again. Not here, not ever. We’re not city folk. We won’t roll over when something bad happens. We’re from Lonesome Ridge. We’ve been to hell and we made it back out. This will not break us. We will not survive,” he said. “We will thrive.” He was practically shouting by the time he reached the end of his unplanned speech. Adrenaline pumped through his veins and he almost believed everything he said. He wanted to believe it.

The crowd cheered and clapped despite the sadness and fear hanging over them. Hannah clung to his arm and gave him a big smile. He leaned over and kissed her forehead.

“We will be okay,” she said again, and this time he believed her.

***

“Where’s the sheriff?” The call bellowed from the wall over the main gate. “Find Jasper!”

Jasper heard the cry and jumped down from the ladder he was standing on. He dropped the hammer he carried and raced around the corner to climb up to where the man on watch at the main gate was frantically waving his arms.

“What is it?” he breathed as he pulled himself up onto the tower.

The man pointed. Along the road that led directly into Lonesome Ridge, the same road the undead had used weeks before, careened a wagon pulled by two horses. A man sat in the seat, whipping them on. The white canvas that had covered the back was torn and stained in places and flapped in the wind behind him.

As the wagon drew closer, the man began shouting. “Help us!” His cry floated up through the still air to the people standing guard on the wall. Men and women gathered on all the nearby towers, watching and waiting to see how Jasper would react.

“Open the gates,” he shouted. When no one moved, he grabbed the man next to him, the one who had called him, by the shirt and pulled him close until they were nose to nose. “Open the gates,” he growled as he stared into the man’s eyes with as much force and willpower as he could muster.

Two seconds later, the man pulled back. “Open the gates!” He relayed the message to the men standing below and the wooden gates slowly pulled inward.

Jasper grabbed the ladder and half climbed, half slid to the bottom. He was waiting, along with much of the rest of the town when the wagon banged its way into the safety of the wall. The driver pulled the horses to a stop just inside and the gates were slammed shut behind the wagon. The horses frothed at the mouth and they stamped and pawed at the ground, little whimpering neighs escaping them every few seconds.

Jasper pulled his pistol from its holster and several of the men around him followed suit. Though Lonesome Ridge had a strict ‘no carrying’ policy before the attack, everyone over the age of ten who knew how to shoot now wielded a firearm if they had access to one.