The Travelling Man (32 page)

Cassie fixed him with a hard stare as she put her hands on her hips.

“I wasn’t including you in that, boss,” the deputy said quickly.

“Speaking of which, where is Jeanne?” Kravis asked, looking around.

“Your young lady friend was taking a stroll outside a few minutes ago,” Mrs. Fiorentino responded as she joined the group with an armful of clean looking bedding. “You’re leaving?” she asked puzzled, looking at Cassie and Kravis.

“We have things to do back in town,” Cassie replied. “Police business.”

“Very good, Sheriff. It’s about time that you fulfilled your office’s duties,” the landlady said abruptly as she turned and started to climb the stairs.

“You sure about her, boss?” Kevin asked, once Mrs. Fiorentino was out of sight.

“I think that she’s a little out of it, but then again who isn’t?” Cassie answered. “But keep an eye on her just the same, Kevin. That’s my daughter up there and I’m counting on you to keep both her and Jeanne safe, okay?”

The big deputy merely nodded seriously in reply, his eyes never leaving hers.

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The once tranquil green church grounds ran red with blood as the battle raged onwards, driven by insanity and fuelled by a grandmaster chess champion.

Terry Shannon was a large and heavyset bartender from The Nugget Bar. He was currently driving Alan Winter’s face into a large headstone that was inscribed with words of love and remembrance, paying little attention to the sentiment. Alan Winter was a 56 year old plumber and several of his teeth went flying and he emitted a high-pitched scream of pain that was drowned out by the thunder overhead. Terry’s expression was one of lustful and ravenous excitement as he brought a foot down hard, aimed at Alan’s head. The plumber rolled to one side just in time as Terry’s foot hit the gravestone. He brought out a small Swiss Army Knife that had been a present from his granddaughter at his last birthday and drove the small blade down hard into the bartender’s upper thigh. Blood started to pump furiously from the nicked artery and Terry sank to the floor, already paling. The plumber roared at the flashing sky overhead as he moved in for the killing stroke.

Jimmy Galloon had been an amiable man, a lover of the law and a campaigner for justice and the protection of those unable to protect themselves. Now, however, he swung a thick chair leg with all the force he could muster towards the head of Kelly McCann who was a 60 year old waitress from Glenn Jordan’s diner. The small woman’s face was twisted into a mask of pure hatred as she ducked under the blow and kicked out hard into Jimmy’s groin. The lawyer collapsed, dropping his weapon, and the air was forced out of his lungs as the waitress leapt onto his chest like a wrestler dropping an elbow. Jimmy tried to push the hellcat off but her long talon nails were scraping at his face, tearing bloody gouges from his pudgy cheeks.

Cary Borage landed blow after blow of his cane onto the head of someone that was now unrecognizable, such was the swelling. His face shone with glee after each sickening thud of the sturdy stick until he was tackled and dragged away by Molly Windham, a 27 year old school teacher, who let out a bloodcurdling shriek as she started to pound Cary’s face into the dirt.

The air was filled with screams of pain and rage as battles raged across the bloody ground. The red rain fell heavily, soaking the combatants through as the dark water mixed with real blood. They had started out as two separate groups, bound by the belief that they were each carrying out God’s will. They were fighting to save Granton from the heathens who had threatened to destroy them. But at some point the battle lines had become blurred, the two armies had merged and now every moving shadow was fair game. Fists and feet struck out indiscriminately, not caring who they struck but only caring that they landed and inflicted maximum damage. Members of the church congregation, who had sat together for decades, now flailed out at their neighbors and reveled in the pain that they caused once close friends.

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Gilbert Grange surveyed his battlefield with a glutinous appetite. Every cry of agony and every sobbing tear was like a concert hall symphony to his ears and food for his soul. He waved his hands high in the air like a conductor directing the music and closed his eyes against the backdrop of beauty.

He opened his dull eyes again and strolled amidst the chaos, stepping over bodies lying prone and broken in the mud. The heavy red rain fell in thick droplets, soaking everything that it touched and stoking the fires of fury. His vision was failing now as his senses began to dim along with his mortal form. Skin was flaking from his body like dusty parchment paper and long strips flew away on the wind. Every now and then a participant stumbled too close to him and their faces soon turned to revulsion when they saw him; his visage was apparently stronger than the spell that they were under.

His back was stooped now and he walked with a pronounced limp as his limbs were tired and heavy. He stopped and reached down for a gore-soaked cane that had been dropped by Cary Borage when he’d been tackled. Grange retrieved the walking stick and leant his weight upon it, happy for the assistance.

The ancient case under his arm bulged and pulsed with its contents. Wisps of white smoke were starting to leak from between the binding as the bag struggled to hold onto its quarry. He had never collected so many souls before and he didn’t quite know just how many more he could stuff into the case, but he was far from done, especially when the buffet in front of him was so rich.

While it was true that his time here was drawing to a close, he hoped to go out with a bang so vast as to match the very first one. He would collect a prize so large and delectable that his own future beyond the veil would be assured and he would sit upon a golden throne fit for a king. In reality, he had little idea as to what his future held but he had his fears. When you were promised near immortality, the days ahead hardly seemed worth bothering about, but now the day was fading fast and - if truth be told - he was scared. His only hope was to step across the threshold with two things. A bounty unlike anything ever seen before and a successor deemed worthy of carrying on in his name. He almost had both.

CHAPTER 21

black & white hats

Kevin stood on the landing, unsure as to just what to do. Ellie was sleeping inside the bedroom but he hadn’t seen Jeanne for a while and he desperately wanted to go and look for her. Clanking sounds were emanating from the kitchen downstairs as Mrs. Fiorentino clattered around with metallic pots and pans, preparing a meal of some kind. He had promised to watch over the Sheriff’s daughter and it was a vow that he took very seriously. On the other hand, he had taken his own silent oath to protect Jeanne as well.

He had checked this floor and the one above, making sure that they were alone before ducking quietly into Ellie’s room for a quick last look to make sure that she was sleeping soundly.

He headed down the long staircase and towards the landlady’s cacophony of cuisine. “What’s on the menu?” he asked politely as he entered the room.

Mrs. Fiorentino didn’t turn around. “It’s rude to sneak up on people, Deputy,” she scolded.

“I wasn’t trying to,” he apologized, wondering at her attitude. “This looks like some undertaking,” he said, looking around at the multitude of pots and pans boiling away.

“The devil makes work for idle hands,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone. “And there is more than enough idleness around here, Deputy. My husband was an idle man, devoid of character or moral fortitude,” she said, slamming a meat cleaver down hard on the chopping board. “I vowed never again to be beholden to anyone, Deputy, my larder will never be empty again and God helps those who helps themselves as a wise man once told me.”  

Kevin watched the woman’s back as she still refused to turn around. She had a reputation around town of being a prickly woman but the quake seemed to have sent her over the edge. She was busying herself around the boarding house like everything was normal despite the world coming to an end outside. “I was looking for Jeanne,” he said.

“Somewhere outside,” she replied, waving a dismissive hand but not turning. He gave up trying to get any sense out of her and headed for the back door.

The rear of the boarding house was open and fenceless. The land stretched out into the desert and the sky overhead was growing blacker. It wasn’t that night was falling, it was just getting blacker.

There were no other buildings in sight and, unless Jeanne had wandered off into the distance, she had to be still in or around the house somewhere. His gut gnawed at him, telling him that something was deeply wrong here. Mrs. Fiorentino had offered sanctuary at a time when the sky had been falling and they’d all grabbed at the opportunity with the desperation of drowning men. Tom had been the detective, at least the wannabe. He missed his friend and the thought occurred to him that there had never been the time for mourning because of everything else. So many people had died and the few that had remained seemed hell bent on joining them. If Tom was here now then he would know what to do, or at least what to look for. Kevin knew that his own talents lay in his size and his ability to intimidate rather than his deductive reasoning.

He stood with his hands on his hips, looking out into the dying light with fear creeping up his spine. Maybe it was because he was close to the outskirts of town here that he could almost think clearly. The thought was unsettling and he worried for Cassie and Kravis, who had voluntarily walked back into the heart of darkness to try and save what remained of Granton.

He turned and looked back at the looming house. His eyes cast upwards towards Ellie’s room and he saw her in the window looking down at him. Her poor face had gone beyond pale and now looked more yellow than the porcelain ivory of earlier. She raised a weary hand and he waved in return. His heart suddenly leapt into his mouth as a shadow moved behind her in the bedroom and then his legs were moving before he told them to.

He almost took the back door off its hinges, such was the force that his broad frame thundered through it. He dimly heard glass smashing and Mrs. Fiorentino shriek as he flew past her and up the stairs. He took them three at a time, his powerful muscles pumping furiously until he reached the second floor and Ellie’s room. Just as he was about to rip her door from the frame, he heard a muffled cry from along the hallway. He changed direction deftly and headed towards the sound.

The corridor was long and lined with faded floral wallpaper that blurred as he ran. He burst through the door at the end and found himself looking down on a back staircase. He stared up and down holding his breath and hoping for some kind of directional indication. A faint sound came from below and he charged downwards, praying that he wasn’t too late.

The stairs wound their way into darkness and he felt that he had gone further than the ground floor level as he descended. His hand reached instinctively for his sidearm before he realised that he had given it to Kravis. He had no weapon and no time to find one.

Something fell to the floor below and crashed loudly, followed by a grunt by a strange male voice. Kevin gritted his teeth and thought of Ellie as he crept down as stealthily as he could manage.

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“What is it?” Kravis asked her as she stopped and stared up into the sky. “Cassie?”

“Sorry,” she replied, shaking her head, “I just got a funny feeling there for a second.” In fact it had been more than a feeling; it had been more than a walk across her grave, it had been like the entire cast of Riverdance had just done a three hour encore. She shook the emotion away quickly before it consumed her.

They had been hiking back into town for about an hour now and every ten minutes or so she had to fight the urge to turn back. She hated to leave Ellie when she was so vulnerable but she just couldn’t see another way.

The unearthly glowing sky had increased in its intensity the closer that they got to the town centre and she knew that Grange must be close now. The air crackled with electricity and the dark promise of answers and she could only hope that they wouldn’t be too late.

The heavens rumbled with thunder again, only this time louder. The reverberations seemed to last longer and suddenly she felt trembling beneath her feet. “Quickly!” she shouted to Kravis, grabbing his arm and pulling him forward as another tremor struck.

Together they stumbled over the debris-strewn street as the building that had once housed the volunteer fire station began to lurch and then fall. Long fissures that the quake had opened began to widen further as another aftershock rippled.

“FAST!” Cassie yelled, not waiting for a response.

They ran full pelt along the ruined street as the remaining structures shook loose their moorings and started to slide into the gaping chasms that opened beneath their foundations. Kravis struggled to keep up with her and she had to slow slightly as she didn’t want them to get separated.

They raced past Harlan’s Hardware just as something blew inside. Suddenly, they were both airborne as a rush of hot wind knocked them sideways. Cassie hit the floor hard and felt the skin shredding on her shoulder as she skidded along the sidewalk on her side. Roaring flames licked at the sky from inside the store and soon leapt across to the neighboring buildings. Cassie stared up at the sky from her back as she came to a halt with a nauseating sudden stop. Another boom split the air around them as something else exploded and she rolled quickly onto her front and tried to stand. She turned around and tried to spot Kravis through the plumes of black smoke that were rapidly filling the air. She finally spotted him lying on the ground, perilously close to a large hole ripped through the concrete floor. One arm and a leg dangled over the edge and his eyes were closed.

She heaved herself up off the ground and stumbled towards him, but as she drew close another tremor thundered beneath them and Kravis threatened to tip over and fall into the darkness below. The next aftershock was the largest and she saw that he was going to disappear into the ground and she ran towards him, diving at the last minute with her hand stretched out as far as she could reach. She hit the ground and ignored the pain from her jaw as a flap of skin tore open on the rubble. Her hand brushed Kravis’ shirt just as he slipped into the widening hole. For a second, she thought that she had missed her grip, but then she felt her fingers snag his and she was almost dragged over the edge with his weight as she gripped his hand tightly in hers. She lost several fingernails on her other hand as she scrambled for purchase to stop them both from falling. At what must have been the last possible moment, her hand slipped into a small crack in the road and she had to clamp her teeth together to stop the roar of pain as her shoulder threatened to rip free of the joint. She lay there with one hand gripping the crack in the road and the other holding onto Kravis as he dangled in mid air, unconscious and unaware of his precarious predicament.

Ellie’s face flashed through her mind as her rational side told her to drop the man. She barely knew him and she had others to care about. Grange was undoubtedly the source of all of their woes and she had to end him to save her daughter. But her stubbornness ran deep, a trait inherited from her father who never accepted the only obvious choices laid before him. If she let Kravis fall, no one else would ever know, but she would, and she had to be able to look herself in the mirror every morning and kiss Ellie goodnight.

She clamped her jaws together and ignored the screaming pain in her shoulder. She cast aside the laws of physics and probability. Millimeter by millimeter, she pulled Kravis with every fibre in her soul and every ounce of strength in her honed body. Sweat streamed down her face and her limbs shook with the monumental effort.

She had almost got his body back onto the road and to safety when she felt her strength starting to fail. She doubled her efforts but there just wasn’t enough in the tank and she trembled with frustration. He was almost there but she couldn’t get his shoulder up and over the lip of the chasm. She could smell fresh blood as the soft flesh on his back was being torn open by the jagged asphalt on the jaws of the tear, and then he was moving. His body jerked and lifted as he reached for her arm with one hand and used the other to pull himself up.

Cassie fell back exhausted and they both lay there panting. It was only after a few minutes that she realised that they were still holding hands.

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Kevin reached the basement and stepped down onto a dirt floor. The back stairs had led directly down to here and he wondered what use they would be to Mrs. Fiorentino. Presumably, there was laundry equipment here. His foot hit something hard and metallic in the darkness as if to confirm his suspicions.

The whole area was pitch black and he couldn’t see a thing. He walked softly and slowly with his hands out in front of him to avoid colliding with anything else. He held his breath for as long as he could and only breathed in short whispers when he had to. He could sense that someone else was down here with him but he couldn’t see or hear anything.

The power was obviously out everywhere in town and he hadn’t seen a generator outside the house. Mrs. Fiorentino’s stove ran on a large gas cylinder that was chained by the back door but that seemed to be the only amenity that she had.

He wore a small but powerful torch on a keyring on his belt, but he was loath to flick it on and immediately identify his own position to whoever else was down here.

He moved into the centre of the room, tiptoeing as quietly as his large frame could manage. He almost let out an involuntary yelp of surprise as he bumped into something heavy in front of him. The bulky object swung out before him and there was a clanking of chain to indicate that it was suspended. He stepped to the side and bumped into another swinging object. He fought hard against the rising panic in his mind as he stumbled forwards, nudging other suspended shapes that started to swing against and around him. Suddenly, he caught a whiff of a familiar and unmistakable scent. He had breathed that aroma for as long as he could remember and it was what he dreamed of when he closed his eyes at night. He could stand it no longer and flicked the small torch on to be confronted by Jeanne’s wide and terrified eyes. She was hanging upside down with her ankles chained to a hook in the roof. Blood streaked her face, which was wet and sticky with a mixture of red claret and tears. Thick tape covered her mouth and her expression was wild and pleading.

Kevin heard a roar and a rush of movement behind him and he only had time to half turn as Jim Lesnar shot out of the darkness and barreled into him. They fell to the ground in a whirl of limbs as Kevin’s balance failed him. He may have been much taller than the squat mine owner but that mattered little on the ground.

Kevin gasped and choked as Lesnar struck him hard in the throat with a powerful blow. The man’s arms were thick with muscle and immensely strong and Kevin struggled to push him away. Thick animal-like paws started to rain down strikes from all angles and Kevin tried to cover his face against the worst of them but Lesnar was a like a wild beast. Every time that Kevin tried to throw up an arm or a fist, Lesnar ducked under it and they rolled in the dirt with Lesnar constantly readjusting his position so that he was sitting on Kevin’s chest.

The small flashlight had torn free of the loop on his belt and now shone across the floor, bathing them in a dim ethereal glow. Kevin tried to speak to Lesnar, but even in the poor lighting he could see that the man’s eyes were crazed and insane. Lesnar suddenly thrust his face forward and Kevin screamed in pain as a chunk of his flesh just below his throat was torn out. Lesnar spat the bloody chunk aside with maniacal glee but Kevin took the man’s briefest of celebrations to launch his own head forwards. He felt Lesnar’s nose crumple under the headbutt and grimaced at the squelch. He let go of Lesnar’s arms and bucked his hips hard, throwing the mine owner aside, using his hands to aid the man’s flight.