The Butcher and the Butterfly (17 page)

And then he knew
what would happen to this town – it would be lost to the desert.
Beaten to death by the sand and its end was coming. Coming fast.
Stephen was but a minor illness compared to the fatal disease that
approached.

He caught some
voices carrying on the wind so he moved away from the well back
toward the Travellers. But as he walked, he lowered to save his
eyes being torn out by the sand, he got the feeling that something
wasn’t right, something was in fact trying to undo everything he
had done here. He looked about, expecting to see – Black Sorcerer –
something, anything; but he was alone except for the wind and the
rocks and the road.

We have a problem,
Stephen.

‘What is it?’

The witch! She is
up to something but I don’t know what.

‘So?’

The wind howled
some more and the old rickety signs above the stores creaked and
groaned like laughing hyenas. The crows had fallen silent but their
cries had been replaced by the nervous screams of the animals.

She has fooled us
both, Stephen! She means to have it! She means to have it all and
by doing so will bring about the end of me, the end of you and the
end of your dreams. Run! Run as if old Lud was at yer heels!

Stephen didn’t
know who Lud was, but it didn’t matter. With the wind at his back
he headed back out into the fringes of the desert and back to the
wretched hovel of Patience.

Mashed Up
Blackberries

1

He ran until his
legs burnt and his chest heaved. But he didn’t stop. His shirt was
drenched with sweat, his body hotter than a bread oven. But he
didn’t stop. His leapt over rocks, slid down into shallow valleys
and kicked through razor bush. He was on the same path that Susie
had been on earlier and he skated down the steep side of the
shallow valley where the lavender crew. His feet were more stable
and his fast motions made it easier to run down the valley wall
that Susie’s had been.

Reaching the
bottom he stopped – small drops of blood were surrounded by uneven
boot prints. Two sets, excluding whoever’s blood that was soaking
into the dry rocks. The boots headed right, towards the old
hut.

Jonah was drawn
and Stephen stood in silence for a few moments, gathering his
breath, composing his thoughts. The wind wasn’t as strong out here,
the valley walls were a protection for the time being, but soon the
storm would turn this valley into a wind tunnel. The clouds above
raced by, the usual bleached white sky was a now a deep blue – like
an ocean floating above the land. Stephen followed the two sets of
boot prints.

Reaching the
broken gate he hunkered down; scanning the front of the hut for any
signs of movement. There were none. It was as he had seen it the
day before but this time there was a stench hanging. It was
familiar to Stephen – it was the stink of death.

He walked around
the gate and into the front garden of the witch. The long grass
brushed past him and his foot falls crunched on the hardpan. His
heart was pounding, the hut seemed larger, a black mountain against
a blue sky; he swallowed hard his throat a chasm of nails.

‘Whats you doing
here, Cowboy?’

Stephen twisted to
his left and raised his gun.

Tommy stumbled
back his arms flaying like a chick trying to fly for the first
time. His right foot hit a jutting rock – he teetered – was about
to fall, but managed to right himself raising his arms high.

‘Don’t shoot me,
don’t shoot me, don’t shoot me.’

‘Who is in there?’
Stephen demanded.

‘Susie. Just
Susie. Well Susie and the wit… I mean Patience. She’s gonna be my
girlfriend in a bit. Please, mister, don’t shoot me.’

Stephen lowered
his gun and moved slowly and quietly toward Tommy. He gestured for
the boy to lower his arms. ‘Don’t worry, Tommy, I aint gonna shoot
you.’

‘Oh thanks,
mister. But what you doing…’

Stephen swung his
right arm and smashed his gun hand against the side of Tommys head
asking the young chap fall to the floor in a heap.

Stephen kicked the
unconscious Tommy hard in the gut as he lay prone on the floor. ‘As
I said you stupid little cunt, I aint gonna shoot ya.’

2

Stephen kicked out
at the old door and it exploded in a web of wood and iron. He
charged in, Jonah leading the way screaming a bestial battle cry
and he stepped from the bright desert into the gloom filled fuckery
of Patience’s home. His voice echoed in the wet air and his boots
crunched on alabaster bones and broken floorboards.

He came to a halt,
stood exactly where he had been the day before. He hadn’t even
noticed the girt to his side – he was solely focused on the bitch
stood before him, her tatty black dress swaying in an unfeeling
breeze, her eyes wide with murderous intent, her mouth wide showing
yellowed teeth crooked and smashed with age. In her hands she
grasped tight the orb known as Petra.

‘You dare enter
here, Watchman. You dare to think you have the right to raise yer
cunny weapon at me!’

‘Shut up, witch.
Shut your fucking mouth before I fill it with lead. Where is the
girl?’

Patience laughed,
the orb pulsing.

‘HE IS A STRONG
ONE, ISNT HE. CAN SEE WHY THEY WANT HIM,’ the strange voice from
the back of the house yelled, but Stephen paid it little attention.
It was the witch he was focused on.

‘Not strong…’

‘Where is the
girl, Patience?’ Stephen took a step forward, stretching his gun
further into the room. His eyes were ablaze and filled with a
putrid green glow only Patience could see.

She nodded her
acceptance of the situation. ‘I see he has taken you. Quicker than
I thought, but never the mind. You are no match for me, Watchman,
have I not proved that already?’ She grinned and then pursed her
lips letting a little puff of her vile breath come rushing out.

The tiny breath
turned into a solid wall of air and it hit Stephen hard. Dust and
bones and filth flew into the air, the house rocked on its
foundations but Stephen didn’t budge an inch.

Patience’s old
face was wide with shock and Stephen noted a slight tremble in her
hands. The orb pulsed fiercely.

‘AND ALL THE WORLD
IS TURNING GREEN; HE WILL BE THE DEATH OF US, THE DEATH OF US ALL!
YOU MUST DESTROY HIM, WOMAN, QUICKLY NOWS SO THAT WE CAN TAKE IT
OUT AND I CAN BE FREE!’

‘What did you want
with the girl, Patience?’

The witch went to
move but Stephens glare forced her to stop. The room went deathly
quiet, the dripping from the boiler room ceased and the scurrying
rats paused in the search for food.

‘Ha, you think you
are so strong and so wise. I fucking spit at what you are you
petulant little cunt,’ Patience clutched the orb between her left
forearm and chest using her right hand to point at him and the girl
still slumped in the chair, ‘You wants to know what I wanted. Well
okay. I wanted the child in her gut, boy. I wanted it and I will
take it.’

Patience raised
her right hand and swiped it hard towards the floor. A coil of blue
spark leapt out from her fingers, spreading out light lightning
before hitting the floor surrounding Stephen in an arc of hot
yellow fire. There was a terrify scream, either from Patience or
the wall flame, Stephen couldn’t tell which and as he fell he
instinctively pulled the trigger three times.

The first bullet
missed Patience by a good distance blowing a hole in her wall and
smashed its way into her bedroom and into the dark wardrobe where
Jonah had been kept. The second bullet was closer, much closer and
Patience moved quickly to her left to get out of its way. But she
had been deceived by her own magic, the noise from the fire beast
released from her hand had swallowed up the third blast from Jonah
and as she moved to her left the third bullet tore through the high
collar of her tatty dress, ripped apart her throat and went sailing
on through the house finally coming to a rest in the back wall.

‘SEEMS AS THOUGH
WE ARE NEVER TO BE TOGHETHER, SWEET WOMAN.’ The mysterious voice
said and then went quiet.

Stephen inhaled
the smoke from the fire and before he could think to react, he
passed out feeling the weight and claws of some kind of fire orange
beast upon him as he went into the dark.

3

Patience kept the
fire beast alive for as long as she could, but eventually she had
to let it go. As the blood pooled, mixing with the gore of her
throat she was reminded of her mother and the pies she made full of
mashed up blackberries swimming in their own blood black juices.
Her mother had been like her and had come to a similar end. She
remembered the words her mother had said as she lay slumped on the
bed, the knife in her chest sticking out. Both of them had loved
but could not keep that love. In her last breaths, Patience
repeated what her mother had said; only this time it made sense
–

‘Under the old oak
tree we danced, hidden in the shadows our love flew and took us
away. But we can never be together, even though we try and I have
to watch you disappear and hope that you come back to me in my
dreams we can never be together and we must walk onto the Green
Path alone. The man will come, see the green man, see him well for
the green man spells the death of us all.’

As the smoke
drifted out of the house it revealed to Tommy the three bodies of
Patience, Susie and Stephen. He cared little for Stephen,
especially now – not only had he punched him hard in the face he
had killed his girlfriend and he had killed his oldest and dearest
friend.

4

Tommy ran through
the streets of Rockfall screaming of bloody murder. It wasn’t long
before a mob was forming.

5

Stephen had
skirted around the border of Rockfall, carrying the unconscious
body of Susie upon his back. He had sneaked through the backstreets
and found the side entrance to the Travellers Last. The mob had
formed and they were baying for his blood. But a mob is stupid and
Stephen wasn’t that too surprised to have made it back safely even
though he was impeded by the girl slumped across his shoulders.

Walking through
the empty bar, Stephen placed her gently onto the closest table to
the counter and breathed out with exhaustion and relief. He
stretched his back out felling, and hearing it click back into
place. Stephen grabbed himself a fresh glass of water and drank it
down. He was about to go for a second when he heard shuffling as
Susie rolled onto her side and vomited onto the dusty floor. The
sun shone through the cobwebbed window and shimmered in her hair.
Even now as she lay on her side her left hand propping her up and
with her head lolled over, puke streaming from her mouth she was
still good looking and it would be a shame to have to go. But he
had to go.

6

After a few
minutes Susie stopped throwing her guts up and she stroked her
hands through her hair. She had the air of someone who for a short
while was unsure of what was going on. Stephen grabbed another
glass of water and took it over to the stricken girl taking care to
dodge the puke on the floor. In her he could see confusion.

‘The witch put a
hex on you, Susie. She then tried to kill me.’ He handed her the
drink and continued, ‘but she wasn’t good enough.’

Susie took a deep
breath she looked at the man in front of her, her eyes working
quicker than her brain.

‘Is she dead? What
about Tommy, is he okay?

‘I killed
her.’

Susie looked up to
the man she loved her eyes squinting against the bright sun pouring
through the windows.

‘You killed
her!’

Stephen did not
turn to face her. He had no need to now. He was distancing himself
from her.

‘To say it twice
does not change the outcome. She threatened me, she almost killed
you. Her death was as certain as the rising sun from that moment
on.’

‘What about
Tommy?’

Stephen clenched
his fist tight and glanced out of the window. Time was getting
short. ‘He lured you to her so I taught that stupid prick a
lesson.’

Susie held her
head in her hands and took in a deep breath. A headache was
beginning to stab at her, right in the centre of her forehead. Her
mind raced. Too much had happened to her in the last few days.
Behind her hands she asked ‘What did she want with me,’ Opening her
hands she looked back at her lover. ‘From us?

‘From me? Nothing.
I was an obstacle she didn’t expect.’ He turned and looked at the
young woman. ‘From you? Blood. Blood to keep her alive. It is magic
that keeps, that kept her on this world. Dark magic needs
blood.’

‘But why me? Why
me?

Stephen walked
over and took the glass away from Susie and drank the rest of the
water. It tasted so sweet. So pure. He savoured it knowing it
wouldn’t be long before he was yearning for such a drink again.
Placing the glass on a table behind him he finally answered.

‘She did not have
time to answer my questions, Susie, and a woman like that doesn’t
give up her secrets to easily.’

Susie fell silent
and twisted her body so that she sat upon the table her legs
dangling. She held her head in her hands as the ache in her head
grew stronger. She was expecting to feel the hands of her man upon
her shoulders, or his lips upon her cheek but she felt nothing. He
wasn’t even looking at her anymore.

Stephen sensed her
need.

‘The ache in your
head will pass in time. You must understand that I had no choice,
Susie, she had to die. It was either us or her. I could not let
that happen.’

Susie looked up
and removed her head from her hands. Her eyes were narrow, focused
on the man in front of her, a man she thought that loved her.

‘What could you
not let happen? Me dying or you?’

There was an
uneasy silence. Stephen could have loved this girl he supposed, but
there was no place for a love like that in a life meant for greater
things. Though he was still unsure what those things actually were.
What was becoming evident was that he needed to leave and getting
into arguments, lovers tiffs, was not an option open to him. He
could see the tears welling in her eyes with every passing
second.