Defending No Where (The No Where Apocalypse Book 3) (19 page)

My turn to smirk. “Can’t say that I recall.”

He nodded several times, bobbing his head from side to side, inspecting my face.

“You’re that fool who was living at old lady Hamshire’s place,” he proclaimed proudly. Damn, he did have a good memory. “You ain’t all pissy because we took a little food from you, are you?”

I thought carefully about my reply. If there was the slightest chance of getting away alive, my next words probably dictated my fate.

“You have no idea,” I seethed, spitting at his feet.

In all likelihood, I was a dead man. So be it.

Day 1,107 — continued

The menace paced for quite a while. I saw his lips move as he spoke, mostly to himself. Occasionally he went back and tormented Lucy for a moment, only to return in front of us.

“See, I gotta do this,” he said, pointing his gun at Jean’s head and then mine. “Can’t have people chasing after me all the rest of my days. And the way I see it, you,” again the gun was at my head, “are probably out for revenge. I don’t blame you, I guess.”

Again, the pacing began and I grew impatient. “Are you going to try and bore us to death?” I asked in a snarky tone. “Or are you going to be a man and do something? Because I’m getting sick of kneeling before a worthless piece of shit like you.”

He grinned before he spoke. “If I could trust you, I could let you go. But I can’t trust you not to come after me again, can I?”

I didn’t bother to dignify the stupid question with an answer. I just stared at him and he stared back.

Moving in front of Jean, he stroked the top of her head. She pulled away, disgusted by his touch. Grabbing a handful of hair, Barster jerked her forward again.

“Maybe I’ll kill Lucy and keep you around for fun,” he sneered, licking his lips perversely. “Jimmy pretty much used her up. I ain’t interested in second-hand sluts. What would you think of that, darling?”

Jean glared at him. “I’d rather be stripped naked, have my guts cut open and left in the middle of the road for the wolves to feast on while I was still alive. Your touch repulses me. You make me want to puke just by being in your presence. You keep me and I’ll hang myself on the dog chain before you ever get a taste of me.”

His evil grin made me shiver. “I think I’ll take that taste right now. See if you’re worth keeping around.”

“No!” Lucy shrieked. “Leave her alone, Clyde. I’ll be good, I promise. Just let her and that man go. You won’t come back, will you Jeanie?”

A huge lie might’ve come in handy right about then. But for some reason, neither Jean nor I were able to hide our true feelings.

“I’ll hunt you down like the filthy pig you are, Barster,” Jean growled. He backhanded her and knocked her to the ground.

“Get your shirt off,” he barked. “Let me see what you got so I can decide who dies today. You and him…” he pointed the gun at my head, “…or him and your sweet little sister.”

My head swiveled in Jean’s direction. “Don’t do it,” I stated in a plain tone. “Don’t give him the satisfaction.”

Jean stared into my eyes, trying to say something without words. What was she trying to convey to me? It will be okay? I have a plan? Or maybe, today’s a good day to die.

“I have to,” she whispered. “I have to do it for Lucy. Don’t let her die, Bob. Please don’t let her die.”

“Shirt, off!” Barster barked, causing Jean to flinch.

She turned and faced him. “Okay, I’ll do it. But you gotta let Lucy live. Deal?”

He drew a deep breath and nodded at her. “That could happen. Let’s see what you got and maybe I’ll let you both live. But the man dies, today.”

Jean looked back at me, tears filling her reddened eyes. “I’m sorry, Bob. But you know this is about Lucy, not you, right?”

I tried to give her a comforting smile to show it was okay, but a single word was all I could muster instead.

“Yeah.” I was going to die. But maybe they’d both survive, somehow.

“I got a bad shoulder,” Jean said to Barster. “I need Bob to get behind me and help me take my shirt off. All right?”

Barster’s eyes shifted between us. If he was trying to decide whether to allow it or not, he sure was taking his sweet time. I guess it extended my life expectancy by a minute or two, so I didn’t complain.

“Okay,” he agreed. Smiling, he placed the barrel of his gun — my gun — against my forehead. “I’m sorry you won’t get to see the show, Bob. But you’re probably a gentleman, I imagine. A little modesty for the woman is probably proper. Get behind her but stay on your knees. No funny business, otherwise I shoot you both.”

I tried to decide whether being non-compliant was worth it. He’d probably just kill me. That would leave Jean alone to do her best against him. Chances were all of us were dead by sundown. Though I knew I’d never see another sunset again.

I nodded in compliance and crawled behind Jean.

Day 1,107 — continued

Kneeling behind my new friend, or lover, or whatever we were, I tried to recall which was the bad shoulder. That’s what didn’t make sense; I didn’t think she had one. However, as she peeled her right arm from her shirt, she pointed at the left.

“Don’t raise it up,” she said. “It might make me pass out from the pain. Just slide it down.”

Completely confused by her words, I began delicately sliding the shirt away from her left side. Her bare torso caused Barster’s grin to grow.

“Bob,” Jean continued, “there’s something stuck right at the belt line in the middle of my lower back. It’s been digging in for the past hour. Will you pull it out please?”

Okay, I thought. If she was going to be naked, she may as well be comfortable. I leaned back slightly and let my eyes slide down her slender back.

And there it was…hope.

Noticing Barster’s interest piqued, I fiddled on the ground desperately, searching for something to show him. I found a hunk of tree bark and held it up, halting his approach.

“Oh, that was a nasty piece of crap caught in there,” he said, looking down and smiling at Jean. “Must have got caught in there when you two snakes were slithering around in the brush, trying to figure out a way to kill me.”

He leaned closer to Jean, reaching for her chest. “How’d that work out for you, sweetie pie?”

Behind him, Lucy tugged desperately on her chain. “Leave her alone, Clyde. Please, leave her be.”

He turned, laughing at Lucy. That gave me the chance I needed to retrieve what was really digging into Jean’s back: a small, dull, black handgun.

Barster was busy shouting at Lucy. I leaned in close to Jean’s right ear.

“Does it have one in the chamber?” I asked in a breath.

She nodded slightly. “Just flip the safety off. But be sure he’s clear of Lucy before you take a shot.”

Barster turned and saw us mid-sentence. He approached too fast for me to make a move.

“Secrets will get you killed, you two,” he laughed, pointing the gun at Jean. “You probably need to stand up now so I can see the whole package. I hate to make a deal without inspecting the goods.”

Neither of us moved and he stepped closer.

“Can she have some water?” I asked, placing my left hand on her bare shoulder. “She said she was about to pass out from the sun and heat. I’m afraid if she tries to stand, she’ll collapse.”

He considered the request, his face twisting with each thought. He turned and walked directly at Lucy, taking any shot away. Nervously, I fingered the trigger behind Jean’s back.

He unhooked the chain from the wall and led Lucy to the doorway. “Go inside and grab that pail of water,” he demanded. “And be quick about it. I got other stuff to take care of today besides babysitting your sister.”

Lucy disappeared inside and Barster stared after her. As silent as possible, I stood and raised the gun at the man. He might have been 20 feet from me, probably no more though.

“Barster,” I shouted, causing him to spin. When he saw the gun, he raised his own but I got the first shot off.

Splinters of wood kicked up from the house next to where he stood and he fired at me. Damn it, I’d missed. Just before he managed to get that shot away, I dropped to the ground, covering Jean.

“Get him,” Jean seethed below me. I rose and saw Barster running towards the right side of the dwelling.

He was maybe 10 feet from the corner when I drew a bead on him. Lowering the sight to center mass, I released a second shot while he was still five feet from safety. He shrieked and reached for his leg. Bingo!

I saw him flop on the ground just around the corner and waited for him to return fire. Two quick shots sailed past, missing me by a wide margin. He couldn’t see me, but I could see his legs. He was down and scrambling to get up.

Rounding the corner, I shot him again in the mid-section, causing him to drop his weapon. His hands searched for the Glock, but I kicked it away. Taking him by the injured leg, I drug him back in front of the sisters he had tormented for long enough.

This ended now.

Day 1,107 — continued

Seeing Jean and Lucy reunited, hugging in tears, I stepped on Barster’s free hand. The other looked mangled, like he had fallen on it. Not that I cared.

“That first shot was for stealing from us,” I vented. “The second was for Lucy.”

I pulled the trigger again and a small caliber bullet buried in his waist. “That’s for burning Lettie’s house down.” Another shot to his right shoulder. “That’s for those people you burned to death.”

I pointed the gun at his groin and jerked the trigger. He let loose a primal moan that probably sent animals for miles around into hiding.

“That’s for threatening my family.” I knelt on his heaving chest and aimed at his forehead. “And just so we’re clear on this…this one’s for Dizzy.”

His face went confused; his head shook wildly. “That’s what this is all about? A piece of shit like him? You’re an idiot for revenging another man’s death. Especially that turd, Dizzy. Tell me that’s what this isn’t all about? Tell me you got a lick of common sense in your brain, boy?”

The last shot ended any further conversation from Clyde Barster. He shook for a few seconds before his eyes rolled back. Then he was no more.

“That’s exactly what this was all about,” I spat between gritted teeth.

Later, I drug Barster’s body back by Jimmy Darling. He too was dead. A single shot, most likely from Jean’s Colt revolver, ended his life. She told me she was glad he had to lie there and suffer for a while. Made everything right in her mind.

Spying something rusty and dull in the dirt, I picked it up. My Glock. I shoved it in my back pocket; happy to have it back where it belonged.

With their arms wrapped around one another, Jean and Lucy sat on the ground in front of the dingy house, recalling events since their separation. Most of the day was gone. I wondered if it would be better to shack up here for the night and head home in the morning or start now and stop somewhere along the way if needed.

“We’re taking off in a little bit,” Jean said when I asked her what she wanted to do. “There’s three horses back there, so we’ll each have a ride home.”

She noticed my silence. She hadn’t seen what I had when I dragged Barster back to join his old pal Jimmy.

“Slight problem there,” I began. “Seems like we shot two of the horses. One’s okay, but the other two are dead. Sorry.”

Jean slapped her forehead. “I knew I hit something when Barster ducked around the corner. I just didn’t think it was the horses.” She grinned at me. “Got a coin? We can flip to see who gets it.”

I smiled and stared into the late afternoon sunshine filtering through the trees.
A little breeze would have been nice,
I thought.

“You take it,” I replied. “I got 10 miles, and you told me earlier you have 20 to cover. I’ll be fine.”

“You can come with us, if you’d like,” Lucy offered kindly. “We could use a good man back home.”

I winked at her. “I’ve got a home and loved ones to get back to. They’ll be looking for me. A couple of them will be pretty damned worried, I suppose. But thanks.”

I helped them load up supplies from Barster’s hideout and watched them ride off into the proverbial sunset. It would have been into the actual sunset, but they headed northeast.

“You take care of yourself, Bob Reiniger,” Jean called out, waving one last time. “If you ever get sick and tired of that Daisy woman, you know where to find me.”

I only waved; no more words were needed.

Turning east towards the road, some four miles through the summer woods, I began my trek home.

And I never planned on leaving again.

Day 1,108

After spending the night in a completely run-down shack, I started back on the road a little after sunrise. I had hoped to make it all the way home, but fatigue — caused by not eating much the last few days — caught up with me. I slept like a baby that night. Even the grotesque amount of bugs in the place didn’t disturb my slumber.

Meandering down the middle of the deserted road, I passed Lettie’s old place. I wondered how the old bird was doing back at Wilson’s fortress. More than likely, she had that group of men saying please and thank you in every sentence. She always figured a little bit of discipline and a whole lot of manners went a long way.

I was three miles from home. Relief flooded over me as I reflected on my time away. This was the tenth full day since I’d left. I hoped they’d be as excited to see me as I was to see them. All of them.

Recalling my dream from many days back, I snickered. Bud was wrong. I could do what had to be done. I
did
do what had to be done. Now we were safe. Maybe safe for the rest of time.
 

As I walked the last few miles, I allowed my mind to wander. I thought about Shelly. In a silent prayer, I wished her the best. We would never be together again. Not on this Earth at least.

Mom and Dad came to my mind. I wondered how proud my dad would be if he knew all the things I had accomplished. If he realized, against all odds, I was still alive, with no plans of dying anytime soon.

Daisy was at the forefront of most my thoughts. The life we’d made together so far was nothing compared to the eternity we’d spend with one another. Libby would be our daughter until someday she had to plant us in the ground, or maybe feed us to Chester’s descendants.