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Authors: Ryan C. Thomas

Scraps & Chum (20 page)

BOOK: Scraps & Chum
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Heading west for a minute, it found a cow trail that put it through a darker part of the town, near the fields. It hugged the trees as it went, sniffing the air to retain the scent of its prey.

 

***

 

Brown Beauty obeyed Paul

s every command, leaping boulders and zig-zagging around trees like a honey bee. She was fast, as Larkin had promised, and while she knew nothing of revolution, was keenly aware of the night

s fear and tension. She was full of it now, and it drove her.

Paul kicked her sides again as the town of Medford faded into the shadows behind him, its residents awake and watching the streets now. Ahead lay the bridge to Menotomy.

 

***

 

The creature

s chest hurt. B
lood trickled
f
rom where the old human had wounded
it. It felt a pang of shame at having run away, but knew it couldn

t afford to be slowed down. It had its orders, after all. Better to continue on its quest than die unfulfilled. Waiting for the signal to attack had felt like an eternity. The chickens and sheep it had had to eat to stay undetected
for weeks
had not satiated it in any real sense. Human blood was the best opiate.

At the northern tip of Medford, it slunk out of the trees near an abandoned cobble-stoned street and spotted a dirty human digging through a trash pile. Even through the considerable distance between them, the monster could smell the harsh fumes of human waste and sweat.

Like the man, it was hungry. It was always hungry. And since it had received its signal tonight, humans were now allowed.

Built for speed by the gods, it covered the hundred yards in seconds flat. The hungry man had just a moment to hear its approach, question the noise, and turn around before the beast was in the air, swiping with its claws. The man

s head exploded into chunks like an apple shot by a bullet.

 

***

 

The river was black, the moon hidden behind charcoal clouds, the dead land covered in fog. As Paul neared the bridge, three men in dark red coats swam into view. One of them shouted:

Halt! Identify yourself!


Yah!

Paul shouted, kicking Brown Beauty in the ribs. With breakneck speed, he plowed through the sentries, sending them to the ground where they scrambled to fire their weapons. The pellets whizzed by Paul

s ears and struck home in the nearby trees.


I will return the sentiment!

Paul hollered back to them as he rode off the bridge and into the woods.

A mile passed, and then another. The trail was dark and deathly frigid, the bare tree limbs looming overhead like crippled bones. At a dip in the road, Paul slowed the horse and moved her to a half-frozen puddle.

Whoa, girl. Take a drink.

The horse bent down and drank as the wind howled through the boughs. Yet, aside from the wind, the forest was strangely quiet. No scurrying rodents, no hooting owls. It was as if the creatures were afraid of something.


Be quick about it, girl. I

m not much for ghosts but this place


Brown Beauty

s head snapped up.  Paul heard the noise too.

What is that?

It was someone on horseback, coming his way.

There was no time to hide. The enemy must have followed him from the bridge; he would have to make a stand. Unshouldering his gun, he spun Brown Beauty around and aimed into the darkness.

A horse came barreling out of the black, a figure atop it, a gun in its hand.


I

ve come for you, you bastard Regular!

it shouted.

Paul relaxed, he knew the voice.

William, it

s me.
Paul,

he yelled back.

William rode up on his horse, letting his gun face the ground.

Ah, Paul,
I thought you were one of them Regular scums. So…
they sent for you too.


Yes. Who else to run through the cold night? My blood is ice these days.


Damn winter is lingering, that

s for sure.


Were you followed?


Ha! I

m not that obvious. Let

s not forget who made it in and out of Madame Raleigh

s establishment for an entire month without paying.

He laughed.

Paul laughed too.

You know the route they

re taking, I presume?


I do,

William replied.

They shook hands across their steeds.

Ride with me to Lexington,

Paul s
aid. And as he said it there were faint screams
from back toward the bridge.

Sounds like those bastard Regulars at the bridge are being punished
by their superiors
for letting us get through. We should hurry to John and Sam while we can. The cache is exposed.


I

ll race you. Let

s go.

 

***

 

Its muscles were hard as bricks, propelling it forward like an arrow. Behind it, at the entrance to the bridge, three mutilated humans lay oozing fluids onto the dirt. It had fed on them for a moment, then realized its mistake. The red humans were off limits. The c
reature would likely be reprimanded, perhaps even punished
now
,
unless it fulfilled its duty. No matter, between the vagrant and the sentries, the furna
ce in its belly had fuel for a while
. It had a job to do, and the stench of its prey was not far off.

 

***

 

Paul and William rode into Lexington, their horses hot and chuffing. The fog still rolled along the ground, reflecting the moon whenever it slid from behind the clouds. They both shouted,

The Regulars are coming! Wake up and get ready! The Regulars are coming!


Where are John and Sam?

William finally asked.

Paul steered Brown Beauty toward a small house on the far side of town. It was the kind of decrepit, insignificant house even termites would overlook, purposefully chosen for its ruse. These are the tactics that have allowed the Sons of Liberty to progress, thought Paul. He dismounted and knocked on the door. A small man with gray hair answered.

Yes?


You know who I am?

Paul asked.

The man scratched his chin.

Yes.

From behind Paul, William stuck his head forward.

Where are Mr. Adams and Mr. Hancock? Now, old man!

But before the man could answer, the two men in question appeared behind him.


Paul,

Sam Adams said. He could say no more as he knew what Paul

s presence meant.


It has begun,

Paul answered.

You must leave now. William and I will continue on from here, and prepare everyone.


How much time?

The second man asked.


Perhaps an hour, perhaps less.

 

***

 

It was getting closer, it could see lights through the ground cloud. A town was coming into focus. It slowed its run to a trot, then to a walk. People were running this way and that, a drum was being beaten. There was too much activity to approach outright. Again, it would have to maneuver around the edge of the habitat. The smell of its prey was very strong, but even so, it might have to lay in wait until it could get a clear path to the man
it was after
.

Slinking into the weeds, it crawled on its hairy belly to a nearby chicken coop, bit the wooden slats in half and tore at the three chickens inside before they had time to squawk.  Chicken blood was foul in comparison to human blood, but it would do. Several feet away, the humans lit fires and ran about shouting.

 

***

 

John and Sam sat atop their horses, pointed away from Lexington. The fog had drifted further to the ground and pooled there like water. William was about pounding on doors and helping people barricade their homes.


Thanks for coming, Paul,

Sam said.

We

ll send word when we reach safety.


I will follow you out to be safe,

Paul replied.

The three of them set off into the darkness while behind them William

s voice rang out:

Everybody wake up! Get your guns!

They were a few minutes out, the noise of the town disappearing steadily, when John spoke up,

What about the papers?

Sam and John exchanged glances, stopped their horses, and then looked at Paul.

There is a trunk, in a tavern…if it should fall into enemy hands…

BOOK: Scraps & Chum
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