Scraps & Chum (22 page)

“
What for?
”

“
Hell, I live there. And I can tell you now, the site of you two riding into town covered in mud and smoke would scare the devil. You
’
re likely to get shot like that. They know me there. Let me come with you.
”

“
You might want to rethink
—
”

“
Rethink what? Because you are wanted men? I told you, I
’
m a patriot too. This is revolution and I offer my services for it.
”

William reined in his horse, kicked its side.
“
You do take risks, don
’
t you, doctor?
”

The three men headed north through the woods.

***

The beast ran at full tilt, the warm morning air renewing its strength. It knew the man in red
on the battlefield
had tried to shoot it, and so it was best to get away quickly. Its chest was slowly beginning to heal, but it was getting hungry again. There were hoofprints on the ground, fresh ones, leading to the north. Its prey was riding with companions. No matter, it would take them all out, shred their skin and feast on their viscera. It had been promised rewards, possibly even more human flesh, possibly the chance to remain in this world for good. Its master was harsh, a man with a soul blacker than the beast
’
s gums, but he was fair.

The creature found a reserve of energy and bounded forward.

***

A small house sat on the side of a hill, not far from Lincoln. There was no light inside it, and no sign of life save for a small cat sleeping near the door.

The three riders approached it. They were about to descend their horses and knock on the door to warn the remote inhabitant of the coming threat, when a voice rang out behind them.

“
Halt!
”

The men spun around.

A small group of Regulars on horseback were aiming their guns at them. They must have been watching us the whole while, Paul thought. They snuck up on us.

“
Ride through!
”
Paul shouted.

The group of Regulars rode directly at Paul and his companions. Both parties crashed into each other, the horrific scream of injured horses and terrified men echoing through the dew-covered woods.

Fists flew, a gun was fired, a horse toppled. Swinging the butt of his rifle, Samuel clipped one of the enemy on the chin and knocked him off his horse. William was engaged in a headlock fight. A bayonet flashed and tore at Paul
’
s jacket, tearing off a hole above where he
’
d lost the other piece back in December.

Both sides bit and punched and kicked.

Samuel got off another swing and freed William from his captor. The two men fought to get to Paul, who was wrestling a bayonet-tipped rifle away from one of the Regulars. But they were pushed back.

“
Forget it, Samuel! Let
’
s go!
”

“
But Paul
—
”

“
Will be angry if we don
’
t leave. Come on!
”

William grabbed Samuel
’
s horse and yanked it away from the struggle. The two men bounded through the forest, with two Regulars in pursuit.

***

It was over in minutes. Paul sat on the ground
, his hands splayed out to his
side
s
, a gun at his head.
“
Where are you headed?
”
t
he British captain asked him.

Paul answered,
“
To rouse your demise. Go on and kill me, it
’
ll serve you no good. I
’
ve already awakened half the land and warned them.
”

“
Have you now? Well, I dare say that your efforts have been in vain.
”

“
We have a militia twice the size of your army. You
’
d do well to return to your cages overseas.
”

A smaller soldier smacked Paul across the back of the head.
“
Let
’
s just be done with him now.
”

“
I
’
m not finished,
”
the captain said. Then to Paul:
“
Where is the munitions cache? We know it
’
s in Concord. Tell me where.
”

“
Ride to Concord and find it yourself,
”
Paul spit,
“
if you can get through our men.
”

The two soldiers who had raced after William and Samuel on horseback returned. One of them was pulling William
’
s horse behind his own.
“
They got away, split up. But one is on foot so I don
’
t think he
’
ll be a problem.
”

“
The other?
”
The captain asked.

“
Over a rock wall, through the thickets. We couldn
’
t keep up. Must be a local, he knew exactly where to go. We lost him in the trees.
”

The captain removed his gun from Paul
’
s head, took a moment to look around, walked to the soldier holding William
’
s horse. The morning fog was all but gone, the insects now showing signs of life. The birds were signing joyously, ignorant of the coming bloodshed. Brown Beauty, being held by yet another soldier, sniffed the grass.

The men began conversing in whispers. Paul could only hear bits and pieces:
“
If it
’
s true we
’
re in trouble…half the countryside… miles to Concord….they might be waiting for us…but we have a weapon…it
’
s not a rumor, I heard from a confidant…witchcraft they say…found him in Dorchester in a cave…very powerful they say…I
’
ll take my  chances…
”

The captain returned, bent down and looked in Paul
’
s face. Behind him the horses became unruly, Brown Beauty tugging at her reins. The birds stopped singing.

“
Your tales of a militia may be true, but we have powerful weapons too.
Strange, yet powerful ones.
So, if you
’
re not going to tell us where the munitions cache is, then I have no further use for you.
”

He placed his gun
against
Paul
’
s head. Before he could pull the trigger something growled and his arm fell in a bloody heap to the ground.

***

It was salivating. This was its prey. It was so overcome with hunger and joy it didn
’
t care if the red humans were off limits or not. It inched slowly through the tall grass, watching the horses and men.  It wanted its kill, and this other human was interfering. Taking its prey from it. With lighting reflexes, it lashed out with its razor sharp claws and took the interfering human
’
s arm off.

There were screams, there was blood, it was hungry, this was its prey.

Now it would feast.

***

“
…the bloody hell is that!
”

The soldiers fired, but in their terrified state completely missed the beast. It leapt up and sliced the senior soldier
’
s head off. Bounding off the torso onto the nearby horse, it bit the ribcage out of the man holding the rein. It turned and bared its teeth, let everyone see its red eyes and horns, wiry hair and brown scales and salamander body, let them know it was from another world.

“
The devil!
”
somebody screamed. The remaining Regulars took off running and screaming.

Paul was up in a flash, on top of Brown Beauty. His gun was a ways off. No time to get it. He kicked the horse and rode away.

***

The beast watched him go, taking an extra moment to bite the lower jaw off the last horseman. For good measure, it tore the horses
’
throat
s with a quick swipe of its claws
. Then it headed after Paul.

***

“
Ride, girl, ride!
”
Paul shouted. What the devil was that beast? It was certainly no animal. It was something else. It had horns, it had blood red eyes, its claws were sharper than swords.

The beast
’
s heavy breath grew louder and louder behind him. It was chasing him and gaining!

Paul spun around in the saddle and caught sight of the beast speeding down the trail toward him. It was so fast! It darted into the trees and leapt over logs and rocks with the agility of a deer, puffing through remaining patches of morning fog. Within seconds it was running alongside him.

Paul yanked Brown Beauty to the side. The horse slammed into a tree and spun around like a tornado, let out a guttural wail, and landed on its side in the dirt. Paul went flying into the brush, rolled himself up to his feet as white-hot pain blazed up his side. He snapped a sabre-length limb off the nearest tree. Something wet ran down his side but he dared not look.

The beast was on the horse before Paul was fully upright, tearing the animal
’
s insides out and jammi
ng its face down into the newly-
opened hole. When it lifted its head, the horse
’
s heart was in its teeth.

Standing motionless, Paul watched the beast drop the heart, as if it had more pressing business. It cocked its head and stared at him, bared its blood-stained teeth.  Was that recognition in its eyes? Did it know who Paul was?