The Killin' Fields (Alexa's Travels Book 2) (12 page)

“Why do they wear so much makeup?” Billy asked quietly.

“So they can still feel feminine,” Alexa answered. “They’ve confused themselves.”

Their slaves, five heavily made-up middle-aged men, appeared happy despite the situation.
The pale, jumpy males hadn’t been rented during the trip so far, the females in this convoy mostly already had their own entertainment. Jacob was glad. He knew abuse happened and he couldn’t stop it, but it was anyone’s guess how he might react to the proof.

Clowns wear fewer colors on their face,
Billy thought, watching as they sat around their fire and sang softly to each other between bites. Their guards and owners did mostly the same.
The women who owned the slaves were large, with bright clothes and cigars that they smoked continuously.

The five slave owners were a mix of brunettes and redheads with weathered skin and sly gazes. They didn’t seem to be friends despite being partners, especially the one with long braids in a ponytail. She looked harder than the others, mean even, and Daniel couldn’t help the male response when she winked at him. He didn’t wink back, however. Personal moments weren’t allowed on watch.

The only other unprotected female in the convoy was the girl traveling with the old woman, but with her matted hair and pissy smell, she was safe from the soldier’s attentions. Her brother was an adorable blond and blue twin that the grandmother wisely kept in the rear of the creaking carriage that was pulled by three skinny cows and followed by an old nag, effectively blocking curiosity with odor.

The map scriber with his gypsy-style wagon and three hired guns had no fire, but they bought dinner from the old woman. As did the slavers, and a few of the soldiers. The messengers ate REMs, secured their possessions inside a lean-to, and vanished for the night. The prisoner with the mapmaker had no choice but to eat the moldy bread one of the gunfighters pitched into his wooden cage.
The gunfighters were all tall and wide, with jeans and plaid shirts to keep out the weather. Their short hair and freshly shaved faces would do just the opposite.

The wagon drivers were stocked with hard bread and dried meat that they enjoyed with their boots off and their flasks in hand, after taking care of their animals. They didn’t talk much, even to each other, and as the sun set, they were stretching out on their benches with ponchos and tired yawns.

The evening faded into night as Edward continued to mark the people around them and their habits. He was sure Alexa was doing the same from a small hole in her wagon cover, and he studied their surroundings, trying to be ready. The corn was the same as yesterday-high and tempting, and hiding any manner of creature being drawn by the light. The sky was black, the grit was greenish, and the sounds of light buzzing insects echoed softly. It was too peaceful, too calm, and Edward tensed for trouble.

6

Alexa waited for the exact moment she would have chosen to attack, then quietly drew one gun.

A second later, gunshots rang out and shadows filled the area.

“Stay down,” Alexa instructed her wagon of men. The driver also obeyed.

“What is it?”

“Wolves!”

“Check the other side!”

Fire!”

Shouts and more gunshots came, and then quiet except for the occasional mutter or running boots.

Flames lit up the corn beside the wagons and Alexa hefted herself out and moved toward the front wagon.

Edward saw Alexa climb from the wagon and quickly got his group to her.

“Mark, go get what I came for. Everyone else goes that way, “Alexa pointed. “Two men every hundred feet. Defend those coming down the line, stay with them. Go!”

Around them, the travelers were either busy trying to battle the fire with water they couldn’t spare or gathering their things to flee.

Alexa’s guns fired, defending herself from shadows that snarled and lunged from the dark rows.

They spread out into the pairs and placed themselves spine-to-spine, waiting for those that were now running toward them with screams and curses as the wolves continued to attack.

Paul stayed with Alexa and the men were glad as the predators kept coming. There was no time to keep him alive. As many wolves as were here, even she might not be able to.

Alexa’s guns echoed louder than the screams but not by much as the wolves took their toll. Outnumbered and unable to traverse well in the dark, the travelers were not going to win against the animals.

Alexa grabbed a fleeing human shadow by the arm and spun them toward her first pair of men. “That way! Keep going straight!”

The messenger departed eagerly and Alexa headed toward the chaos.

Alexa ran faster, leaping over shadows and crashing through rows of sharp stalks in her haste. Those were her people, most of them, and she had to help.

She snatched two shadows from their flight, spinning them around.

“That way! Keep straight. Get to my men!”

More people were heading her way now, some soldiers, and Alexa didn’t spare them a thought. “Get to my men. Go straight!”

All of them obeyed, leaving her with just the sounds of gunfire and Merrik screaming orders. Merrik’s men were fleeing, leaving him and his precious wagons.

Alexa dashed through the last rows and then into the camp, where the drivers had the wagons ready to roll, but wolves were everywhere. Blood and bodies of both species littered the ground.

Alexa grabbed a reloading wagon driver by the leg, pointing. “That way. Go!”

The wagon drivers didn’t argue or waste time with

questions. They put the whip to their asses and left Alexa and Merrik in a cloud of dust.

Alexa didn’t wait for Merrik to recover from the shock of seeing her there. She took off into the corn, not caring if he made it or not.

Merrik, now completely alone for the first time, tore through the corn like a wild man to catch up.

Alexa let him, reluctantly. It really would be easier if he died here and now. What was waiting for him was ugly.

7

Mark slipped through the corn, shifting his prize to his other shoulder. He waited for a minute, letting Alexa’s guns draw the wolves away from him before continuing. The corn was alive with shadows and snarls, and Mark kept both guns out as he traveled. It would have been an impossible balancing act if not for Alexa’s sessions where they did exactly this while traveling. It gave the man being carried a needed break, toughened the man doing the carrying, and allowed the others to examine the struggles and make adjustments for their own training. Mark liked the way Alexa did things. Most of it was hands-on, learn as you go.

Mark crouched down as large shadows flew overhead and he stayed still, waiting. He couldn’t identify the flyers, but he didn’t need to in order to know they were bad news that he couldn’t handle alone.
The sound of small birds and the larger, more strident flyers came to him, but he didn’t spot the source despite the volume being piercing. It was as if the wildlife here was using bullhorns to magnify themselves and their intimidation factor.

As soon as the shadows were gone, Mark took off running toward the location he’d been given. As he departed, the screams and gunshots faded and the worry grew. He was sure Alexa would be there before he was, but that didn’t stop the concern that she was out there alone too. There were wolves, some strange flying shadows, bats and rats, and Merrik, who was likely less dangerous of all of those, but still a threat.

“She’s got it covered,” Mark muttered. “Now cover your own end.”

Mark increased his pace, hoping to reach the shelter before the soldiers. As he leapt over a large rut, the heavy weight over his shoulder shifted and he lost his balance. Mark fell forward, hard, and landed face first in the dirt and stalks.

As he lay there, breathing evening, Mark decided it would be better to arrive with his package. Being first didn’t mean anything if it was empty-handed.

“Ugh!”

Mark punched the slowly waking soldier and the man sagged against his bonds again.

Mark grunted in relief and quickly took his prize to the concrete tunnel he’d been working is way towards since spotting it. The narrow storm drain would do just fine. Once daylight came, he would rejoin Alexa. She would know what he’d done and approve of it. She wanted the package alive and well, and she would have it.

8

Alexa’s men were with the survivors running blindly through the corn. They tried to lead then like Alexa, but it was hard to keep going straight in this tall hell. Fifteen minutes after Alexa had disappeared, her fighters finally got the people under control and put them into a line to march. The fighters roamed around them, guns in hand, and they kept moving fast. The wolves hadn’t followed them yet, but there was little doubt that they would.

The sounds behind them-screams and Alexa’s Colts-were almost comforting. As long as they heard the guns, they knew she was okay.

“Over here,” Billy called, pointing at the outline of a building.

The stalks around the edge of the new site swayed angrily in the breeze, reaching out…

“Get down!” Jacob shouted.

As he spoke, hundreds of the razor-sharp stalks broke apart and launched at the travelers, slicing hands and faces.

Screams came from both ends of the strung-out convoy and Alexa’s men shoved the people past the ambush spot, wincing as they were hit the worst.

“Get inside the first building you come to!” Daniel ordered, but he doubted any of the panicked people would listen or remember.

“Watch out!” Edward shouted.

“Get down!” Jacob demanded, hitting the ground as a giant scythe swept over his curls with a vicious whine.

Jacob rolled and fired.

The shadow wielding the scythe didn’t flinch despite being hit, and Jacob rolled onto his feet and took off running with the others.

“What was that?” Paul asked, gasping for air.

Daniel shoved him into the shed they emerged by and the others surrounded it, ready to fight. The rest of the travelers were spread out in the empty buildings, but they didn’t go as far as the fighters had thought they would.

Alexa’s men stayed ready, but the night fell silent.      

They’d come to a larger station, this one with dozens of homes and structures, and after a while, Jacob led Paul to the center.
The buildings here were made of rusting metal and cracking wood, set in a patch of sickly brown dirt that even the corn wouldn’t grow in.

The other men cleared it from the inside out. The spiral setup was a little disorienting and the former preacher settled in front of a storeroom-type barn with a sigh of relief. With some luck, any surviving soldiers would stick to the outer edges of this town and be picked off. They certainly hadn’t shown much in the way of survival skills so far.

Who Jacob was rooting for, besides the kids, were the wagon drivers. If they lived, they’d eventually be through here with whatever was left of their supplies. Those boxes and pouches could help a lot of Americans instead of this Roscoe creep. After the attacks, Jacob was hoping the drivers would be willing to sell their cargo and lie about it being destroyed.

“It’ll be hours before any of them get here,” Edward stated. “Eat, stretch, piss. Cold camp.”

Two hours later, all of them were worried.

“She should be here,” David commented, making sure he was fully loaded.

“She’s bringing the others,” Billy refuted. “She’s fine.”

The silence around them belied that comfort and they continued to wait as the travelers with them slowly came out and wandered the new campsite. They listened, hoping to hear her guns, but nothing came.

“Go get her!” Paul ordered suddenly, glaring at all of them. “Go help her.”

“Shut up,” Edward ordered curtly.

Paul opened his mouth to protest and Billy interrupted him with, “Not a good time, Rabbit.”

Paul flushed. They didn’t call him that often and he had grown sensitive of the name. “Don’t call me that!”

Edward waved at the shed. “Shut up or wait there.”

Paul glanced at the shed, then the corn, and didn’t speak. He liked being in the thick of things.

“Should we?” Jacob asked lowly as survivors wandered by them.

“She’ll be along,” Billy refused. “Let’s get it set up.”

Each man spotted things that would need to be done to convert the area into a temporary camp, and they got busy, leaving Jacob and Paul to stand guard. Paul’s hands were the only part of him that was clean, and the fighter tried to stay downwind.

The wolves hadn’t followed them from the corn and that was a relief, but Jacob wondered if that was because they were now in a more dangerous area that even animals wouldn’t trespass on. It wasn’t comforting.

9

Mark and Brian stared at each other a long time. The inside of the drain was mostly dry, with that lack mold growing up one corner. It was colder inside the huge pipe, but also safer. It wasn’t comfortable for the males, and the hostility on Brian’s face was hard on Mark after a while.