All The King's-Men (The Yellow Hoods, #3) (10 page)

As Christina opened the back door, it creaked, and a lantern shone in her direction.

“Someone’s there!” yelled a man’s commanding voice.

Immediately, shots were fired in her direction.

Christina dropped to the ground and squinted. Finally catching sight of someone, she pulled the trigger. A high-pitched whistle from her pistol was followed by a scream as the target dropped to the floor, struck by the stream of pebbles.

Elly and Tee peered down the stairs and saw one soldier fall, with two others surrounding someone in a red-hooded cloak.

Without thinking, Tee leapt down the stairs. Her mind was flooded with images of Pierre’s death at the hands of a Red Hood. She knocked the Hood to the ground, surprising everyone.

Elly hopped onto the banister, and timed throwing the shock-stick at one of the soldiers perfectly. The soldier screamed as he lit up with purple lightening, and as he flailed, he hit the soldier beside him, who also yelled and then fell to the ground.

“Woo, that has some punch,” said Elly.

Christina rushed in and smacked the wounded soldiers with the butt of her pistol. She glared at the girls. “I told you both to be careful. Elly, you almost hit Tee, and Tee, what was that about? I told you—”

Tee was trembling as she got herself off of the unconscious Red Hood. “I’m sorry, I just… I lost control.”

“You could have gotten us all killed,” scolded Christina. “That was really sloppy. Clear your heads or sit out next time.”

Elly and Tee nodded.

“You know, my mom’s going to be pretty upset with this mess,” said Elly, gazing at the four bodies. “Especially the blood from that guy. Man, I bet that’s not going to come off the wall easily.”

Tee tried to laugh, but failed. “Your mom has a special skill at cleaning things.”

“True,” said Elly, examining the two lanterns. “These are almost out.”

Christina flipped the Red Hood over. Her face hardened as she noted the gold embroidery on the edges of the cloak.

Tee noticed Christina’s expression. “He’s not from the battle, is he?”

“No,” she replied, slowly standing.

“And he’s not like the Red Hoods we fought, is he?” asked Tee.

Christina sighed. “No. It’s the same red, though. I figure that’s intentional. But the writing in this stitching—my father showed me old books with this stuff in it. We have to go.”

 “What does it say?” asked Elly, watching Tee out of the corner of her eye in case she showed any signs of knowing.

“We’ve got bigger trouble than I thought,” replied Christina. “We have to get going.”

“Wait,” said Elly, chasing after Christina out the back door. “Who? What do you mean by bigger trouble?”

Christina scanned about, confirming Mounira and Franklin were fine, before returning her gaze to Elly. “You’ve got to trust me when I say we need to get going - now.”

 “Where are my parents?” asked Elly.

Tee shifted her gaze from the back door’s frame to Elly. “They’re safe. That’s all I know.” There was a new certainty to Tee’s voice that both relieved and bothered Elly. She felt like she was one of the kids left out when she and Tee would speak in code. She hated the feeling. 

“What about your parents?” she asked, following Tee’s gaze as it returned to the doorframe. Elly wasn’t sure what was of interest to Tee. “Do you want to check your house?”

Christina interrupted. “We need to go. They’ll be fine.”

Elly put her hand on Tee’s shoulder. “Don’t you care—”

“My parents were in Mineau, remember?” replied Tee sharply. “They left me that note yesterday morning. They wouldn’t have returned with everything that’s happened.”

“Okay,” said Elly, leaving to join Mounira and Franklin. 

Tee sighed deeply, letting out a bit of the emotional pressure inside. She rubbed the subtle marks on the back-doorframe. “I love you too, mom. I’ll take care of her. I won’t let you guys down.” 

Wiping her tears, she took out a piece of white chalk from her backpack and marked a few symbols on the other side of the doorway.

“Tee, let’s go!” commanded Christina.

With a big breath to steady herself, Tee rejoined the group.

CHAPTER NINE

Flaky Roads Ahead

As the sun started peeking over the hills and breaking over the horizon, the barmaid put her broom away in the closet of the inn’s main room. She smiled at Emery, the innkeeper, asleep at a table. His hand was still clutching a wet rag. 

Everyone else had left an hour ago, but she’d dutifully stayed as always to make sure that everything was properly tended to. 

She leaned against the open doorway, gazing out at the orange sky. It was going to be a nice day for a ride. She turned and walked the main room, double-checking that everything was spotless for when Lord Pieman and his entourage came for breakfast.

Emery stirred as she walked by. “Alice?”

“Just doing my final check, Em,” she replied softly.

“Oh, I must have nodded off there for a bit,” he said, rubbing his stubbly, gray face. He yawned and gazed out the front door at the morning sky. “What a crazy week it’s been.”

“It has,” replied Alice from somewhere behind him. He heard her get the dousing pole and start to put out the hanging oil lamps.

“I couldn’t have handled these rushes without you, Alice. You know that, right?” he said, leaning on the chair and watching her expertly dousing oil lamp flame after oil lamp flame.

Alice stopped and smiled sweetly at him. “You’ve been good to me since I asked for a job a year ago, Em.”

He nodded and chuckled. “I know! You haven’t missed a day of work since. I don’t know what I would have done without you. It’s like you came out of nowhere and helped me turn this place into… into a place that people are making a point of coming to! It’s like we’re on the map.”

Alice shrugged happily. “I just helped straighten up a bit, that’s all.”

“Ha!” laughed Emery, not buying it for a second.

Alice put the dousing pole away and picked up her bag of coins from the bar.

“Quite the haul last night, eh?” he said. “I think Marlene walked out of here lopsided.”

Alice nodded, then turned to face him. “I’m going to be gone for a couple of days.”

Emery’s face went white, then he laughed, wagging a finger at her. “Oh, you had me there for a moment.” He put his hand on his chest. “Oh my, you gave me a scare.”

Alice’s sweet smile turned up at one edge. “Sorry, Em. I really do mean it.”

The innkeeper stood. “Wait—what—why?” he asked, worried. “Did… did something happen?” He wiped his hands on his apron and smoothed his stained, brown shirt.

Alice’s expression turned regretful. “I’m sorry, Em.” She pouted. “I forgot to tell you, and I just realized as I saw the sun coming up and thought oh no, I haven’t told him. I should have told him last week.”

“Oh, don’t blame yourself,” he said, gesturing with his chubby hands that everything was okay. “It has been so crazy here, I’m sure even I could forget that it’s already Tuesday, given half the chance.”

“It’s Thursday,” corrected Alice.

“Really?” Emery stared at Alice in disbelief. “What am I going to do without you?”

Alice lowered her head, keeping her eyes locked on Emery.

Two shots rang out, startling them both.

He waved for her to calm down. “It’s likely just some straggler soldiers. Grunts who’ve just had the scare of their lives from their captain or lieutenant firing a pistol right by their heads to wake them from their drunken stupors. It happened last week as well, only a little later in the morning,” he said, peering at the doorway and hoping he was right.

Alice smiled. “Right, that makes sense,” she said, a bit rattled.

“It’s okay, Alice. You go and I’ll… ah… I’ll manage,” he said. “As… ah… as long as there isn’t another night like last night, we’ll be fine.”

She leaned over and gave the old man a kiss on the cheek, immediately perking him up. “You will do fabulously. You’ll hardly notice I’m gone.”

Blushing and staring at the floor, Emery replied, “Well, I doubt that on both counts, but… I’ll be fine.” He nodded convincingly.

Alice walked to the open doorway and held on to it for a moment. She turned back to Emery. “I’ll need to borrow a horse.”

He was a bit surprised, but shrugged. “Sure, why not? No problem, Alice.” He rarely lent his horses to anyone. “Um, Alice?”

“Yes, Em?” she said, giving him her adoring attention once again.

“Where are you going?” he asked, folding his arms nervously. There was something about Alice that always made him nervous to ask her anything about her life.

“Oh,” she thought for a moment. She could read the concern on his face, and couldn’t have him stop her from borrowing the horse. She really didn’t want things to get messy. She’d been sent to serve as eyes and ears, and now needed to report back quickly. “I’m off… to find a Baker,” she said. “It’s about some special pastries.” She waved and left.

The innkeeper stood there, dumbfounded, staring at the empty doorway. “Um, Alice? Alice?” He tapped his chin, shaking his head. “But, the baker’s just down the road. And… and he’s not open yet.”

As Alice walked towards the stables, she froze as she saw Marcus in his distinctive black long coat and monocle, walking to the entrance of the guest rooms, a pistol smoking in his hand.

When she heard the door close behind him, she let out her breath and continued on her way.

CHAPTER TEN

Mercy of the Red Hoods

Snapping twigs and boots scuffing along the ground stirred the Hound from his agonizing slumber. Layered over the top of the horrific pain was the early morning chill that drilled into his bones. 

He struggled to open one eye. Trembling from the pain, he caught a glimpse of three shadowy figures in the bright and blurry world around him. Mustering up his first words since having been hit with the rocket-cart the day before, he whispered, “Help me.”

The Red Hoods observed the scene. The entire area was a mess. Pieces of the rocket-cart were scattered all about, as were pieces of the Hound’s shock-gloves and the tank he’d worn on his back. Three trees had fallen, and black grass marked a trail that led to the crumpled Hound. He lay almost naked against a golden oak.

Hans bent down and examined the shredded metal tank. There was a green liquid pooled in parts of the beaten-up battery pack. Hans gave it a sniff. “It smells horrible. Worse than Mother’s tomato soup,” he said, chuckling.

Saul picked up a twig and stuck it in the liquid. It hissed as the end blackened. “Nasty stuff.”

Hans turned to the Hound. “I guess that’s what did this to him.”

Most of the Hound’s head and face were bare and burned. Only matted tufts of his red-brown hair and big beard remained, some of it fused to his skin. His legs, arms, and chest were covered in tatters, mostly exposed to the elements, with parts severely burned. A broken shock-glove lay at the end of one hand, the last remnant of how he’d looked the day before.

“It’s acid,” said Gretel.

Hans glanced up at her. “How would you know that?”

She rubbed a scar on her left hand. “Mother showed me.” Gretel shrugged off the memory and turned her gaze to the shivering man at their feet.

Hans put his nose right up beside the Hound’s head. “It smells like… like bacon, really.”

“Disgusting,” said Saul.

“No, seriously, come and have a sniff,” said Hans, trying to grab Saul. He enjoyed the discomfort on Saul’s face. Smiling at the Hound, he leaned in and whispered, “You should be dead, you horrific beast. But you smell good enough to eat.” Hans went to give him a slap on the back and Gretel grabbed his arm.

“What are you doing?” said Hans angrily, shaking his arm free. “Don’t touch me. How dare you do that!”

Gretel gazed upon the broken man. She could see parts of his arms where he must have tried to protect his face as the acid splashed while he’d tumbled. For the first time, she could see the handsome face that had been buried underneath all the hair. 

Hans shoved Gretel back. “This thing is disgusting. It’s unlucky to still be alive. It’ll be dead by dinner though, one way or the other. The least we could do is put it out of its misery.”

Saul wanted to say something, to argue Hans’ point, but he just couldn’t find the words. His brother had been oddly twitchy since Mother’s death, and he didn’t want to provoke him immediately after Gretel had.

Hans caught the look in Saul’s eye and shook his head at his siblings. “Disgusting,” he said, nudging the Hound with his worn boot. “This thing was supposed to bring us to a new life, to give us purpose, to make us matter. Now look at it. It can’t even stand up! Let’s just have some fun with it, put it out of its misery, and find the woman in the red cloak on our own.”

“We do have the red cloaks,” said Saul, trying to get Hans’ approval. “We’ll just try to find others like us and we’ll find her. Maybe she’ll want to help us.”

“See!” said Hans, slapping his brother on the shoulder. “Now there’s some reasonable thinking. Come on Gretel, let’s—” 

Saul felt ashamed when Gretel met his eyes. He’d allowed a moment of weakness and fear to overwhelm him. “No,” said Gretel softly, bending down. She observed the tensed muscles in the Hound’s face, how his eyes were shut so tightly that it seemed like a thousand layers of armor were trying to block the world from the fragile soul inside. She shielded the sun from his eyes with her hand and watched the muscles relax slightly.

As Hans and Saul started bickering about what to do, she waited. After a minute, the Hound’s eyes fluttered open.

She gazed at him, curious. She’d never seen a man so helpless or injured before. The nightmares that had started since Mother had died, that had mostly featured a yellow-hooded fury, seemed to relinquish their hold on her while she looked at him.

The Hound had never seen such a tender smile. He tried to whisper to her, but couldn’t.

Gretel felt his pain as he closed his eyes again.

“It’s okay,” she said, thinking. “I’m…” She paused, squinting, her face tense. “I’m… going to help you.” She was surprised by the words that came out of her mouth. She’d been thinking strange thoughts since Mother’s death, experiencing emotions she couldn’t remember ever having before.