The Infiltrators (27 page)

“Her house,” Righty replied.

Righty’s heart sank as he realized he
was going to have at least one more bloodbath tonight before he
could even steal a few hours of peaceful sleep, after which he
could then attempt to grapple with the enormity of his involvement
in this affair and his acquisition of a powerful enemy at the same
time his organization in Sivingdel was being infiltrated by some
kind of shadowy, unstoppable force hacking its way to the top as
easily as a swordsman through pillows.

Yet he realized he was going to have to
get Donive some place out of Sivingdel. He knew intuitively Pitkins
would rather Donive be tucked away somewhere safe, even at the
expense of him having to fend for himself at the moment Rucifus’s
thugs arrived at the jail to finish off what little was left of
him.

Once Harold set Righty down, it seemed
he was outside his own body watching himself from afar as he hopped
off and ran into Donive’s house and came back with the large dog in
his arms.

“Have you lost your mind, Righty?”
Harold inquired.

“Possibly, but this here fella’s comin’
with us.”

“One bite to my back, and I’m chucking
all of you off.”

Righty smiled, hoping he could convince
Harold he was joking, although he knew he wasn’t.

The dog’s eyes shot rapidly back and
forth with fear, but he then began to whine happily once he saw
Donive.

“Wuf!” he shouted joyously.

This momentary calm was sufficient for
Righty to get the dog onto Harold’s back without being
bitten.

Once he and his two passengers were
somewhat secure, Righty tied himself to the main strap with a
second strap he had the foresight to put there a long time ago, and
then held on to his two guests tightly.

“To my house.”

Righty experienced a moment of
surreality when Harold asked, “Which one?”

“Where my wife lives.”

Harold took off.

Chapter 36

When Harold arrived at Righty’s house
an hour later, he saw no lights on. As Harold touched the ground
and Righty got off, the potential for misinterpretation of his
late-night arrival with a goddess-like beauty in his arms suddenly
dawned on him.

“Stay here, and try to stay very
relaxed. I’d prefer she not wake up before I talk to my
wife.”

Harold looked slightly annoyed but
didn’t argue.

Righty went dashing upstairs and woke
Janie.

“Honey?” Janie said
groggily.

Righty brought a lantern from the
hallway and tried to quickly plow the soil for the seeds he was
about to plant.

To his delight, he saw she was quickly
becoming alert as she looked at his face; then, his gratitude
quickly vanished as her face turned to concern and then to
horror.

“Babe . . . you’ve been bleeding . . .
what’s going on? You slaughter a cow tonight?”

He started to bring his hand to his
face to inspect, then realized the futility once he remembered the
reason for the blood.

“Babe . . . I need you to listen to me
very carefully, ‘cause I don’t have time to explain. I had to help
out a friend whose wife was kidnapped by some very bad people. They
were going to kill her if he didn’t do what they wanted and then
kill him.

“I managed to get her, but he still
needs my help. Kasani willing, I’ll be back here in a few hours. If
not, know always that I love you.”

Janie began to cry
immediately.

“Don’t go!”

Righty didn’t have time for this. He
grabbed her by the shoulders gently but firmly and looked directly
into her eyes.

“Babe, please just listen. These are
good people. They didn’t look for trouble. Trouble found them. What
if I were being held somewhere, and the man who could save me was
having this conversation with his wife? Would you want her to give
him her blessing and best wishes?”

Janie gulped. She had never cared much
for hypotheticals.

“We may need to give them a safe home
for a while. I’ll explain everything soon.”

He began walking quickly downstairs,
hoping to reach Harold before Janie saw him.

By the time he was reaching the main
door he began to hear Janie’s reluctant footsteps coming after him
from upstairs.

Harold’s face revealed he would be
happier the sooner he was done babysitting, and he looked genuinely
happy when he saw Righty pick Donive up and bring her to the
porch.

Mervin quickly followed, tail wagging
enthusiastically.

Righty gave a quick little whistle to
Harold and then motioned towards the barn. In less than two blinks,
he had disappeared into the night.

Righty turned around and was walking
towards the door, golden-haired treasure in his arms, when Janie
approached.

Janie shot Righty a quick
glance, and he knew immediately she had swallowed some barb on the
top of her tongue, perhaps,
Not motivated
by her divine beauty, are you?

But her heart seemed to melt with the
soft whining of the dog, and the next thing Righty knew Janie was
instructing him what room to place her in, and she didn’t even
object as Mervin entered the house following them
closely.

Once Donive was placed into bed, Righty
said with a smile, “Now, I know you’ll wish me the best because
it’s her husband I aim to go get. And believe me, he’ll keep a
closer eye on her than you could ever dream of.”

This brought a reluctant smile to
Janie’s face, and she immediately gave Righty a bear
hug.

“Go get her husband,” she said, a smile
on her face and tears streaming down her cheeks.

He sprinted outside the house, and as
he headed towards the barn, Harold came to him, flying low and
fast.

He flared his wings and brought himself
to a stop for a second so Righty could hop on.

The next second they were both headed
towards Sodorf City.

Chapter 37

For a moment, Righty considered making
a detour at his ranch to pick up a couple swordsmen but quickly
decided against spilling his secret yet again and at the cost of a
couple hours’ time to boot.

Already he was beginning to see the
slightest hints of dawn’s arrival. It appeared Harold noticed as
well, for his wings began to beat the air even more
feverishly.

Righty took inspiration from Harold’s
indomitable resolve and steeled himself for one last battle,
fantasizing about subsequent sleep the way a man in the desert
would about water.

For now, he warmly greeted the flow of
adrenaline pulsing through his veins, for he was going to need
every ounce of energy he could get his hands on. He was also
grateful not to have any immediate access to Smokeless Green, as he
suspected the temptation would have been too much, but the thought
did occur to him that perhaps keeping a small amount with him for
emergencies might someday save his life.

A decision for another day.

He had begun to recognize the
topography enough around the border from his slower journeys on
horseback to know when he had crossed it, and at this very moment
he saw Sodorf greet him, though he knew not whether it would be a
fatal embrace.

While dawn continued her persistent
arrival, the terrifying realization came to him that she would most
likely beat him to the jail.

“There’s no stopping till the jail,”
Righty said to Harold. “But bring me in from behind and drop me off
in the alley.”

What seemed like just moments later but
was more like twenty minutes, Righty began to see faint outlines of
buildings below. To Harold, however, they were in crisp detail,
without serious obfuscation from either darkness or
distance.

When Righty least expected it, he
suddenly heard Harold say, “Strap in.”

Righty ducked underneath a second strap
on Harold’s back and grabbed onto it until his knuckles turned
white.

He barely suppressed a loud scream as
Harold went descending mercilessly at a nearly vertical
angle.

With practice, he was beginning to pick
up the subtle hints of Harold’s sudden stops, and as soon as he
felt the angle of Harold’s body change, he braced
himself.

The foreknowledge still did little to
alleviate the overwhelming force against his body as Harold came to
an abrupt stop, but he immediately rolled off Harold and told him,
“Stay here. Even if someone sees you, stay here. If anyone
approaches you, deal with them.”

Harold looked genuinely surprised but
nodded.

Righty then went sprinting down the
alley to the edge of the jail.

It was now light out, though just
barely. An orange glow bathed the air, but darkness had not made a
full retreat. Traffic was light. A few coaches on the street in the
distance but none close.

Righty now had more adrenaline than he
knew what to do with. His heart was galloping a mile a minute, and
his hands were slightly shaking.

Rap, rap, rap. Righty’s fist thundered
against the door.

Silence.

RAP, RAP, RAP!!

Righty’s fist shook the door and maybe
even the wall along with it.

Silence.

Righty was prepared to knock again, but
then it sounded like a chair had been moved. Then, footsteps were
coming towards the door.

Silence.

Just as Righty’s fist was poised to
strike even harder blows the peephole slid open.

Expecting an irritated explanation that
visiting hours had not yet begun, Righty quickly grew uneasy when
there was no statement from the owner of the eye peering at him and
even more so when the eye began scanning its surroundings. It
seemed far more interested in determining whether the visitor was
alone.

Acting on a hunch, Righty peered over
his shoulder. Out of a building directly across from the jail no
fewer than a dozen men were coming out and had little distance to
traverse before reaching him. Most had swords, though a few had
large clubs that looked fully capable of splintering a man’s skull
into about a hundred pieces.

Righty reached his hand back to his
sword, unsheathed it, extended it, and then jammed it right through
the open peephole. Only a brief yelp issued as it made contact with
the man’s eye and then buried itself several inches into his
brain.

Righty kicked the door harder than he
had ever kicked anything in his life. Nothing.

BAM!! Nothing.

He spun around and saw the men were
picking up the pace and were only several yards away. Righty risked
one more kick. The door broke at the top hinge and tilted inward
slightly but otherwise remained intact.

Righty spun around with a wild slicing
motion. A man jumped backwards in time to save his guts, but took a
nice slice across the surface of his belly.

Righty could immediately tell by the
man’s reflexes these men likely had some training.

He breathed in deeply, soaking up all
the oxygen he could and readying his body to explode.

One of the men came in with a vicious
thrust. Righty parried it quickly and sliced the man’s head off
neatly with a horizontal slice.

He then immediately dropped low and
went for the legs of the next incoming attacker. The man leapt up
into the air like a child with a jump rope, but Righty immediately
brought his sword back in the opposite direction, lopping off both
feet at the ankles.

He howled like a banshee, watching his
feet hit the ground moments before his detached body.

Righty met the next incoming attacker
with a stiff thrust to the heart. The man was wearing mail, giving
Righty’s sword the chance to demonstrate the elite handiwork of
Pitkins as it pierced through the armor with enough speed to punch
a hole in the man’s heart in spite of the minor speed
bump.

Righty suddenly felt an arm wrap around
his throat. “KILL HIM!!” the man shouted.