Knights of the Apocalypse (A Duck & Cover Adventure Post-Apocalyptic Series Book 2) (13 page)

Jerry pushed Shane towards the door. “Take a
walk.”

“You’re a lucky man, Cody,” Shane said and
stepped outside.

“You’re making the wrong friends, new guy.”
Cody spat a wad of blood on to the floor.

“Just keep it quiet in here.” Jerry turned
and walked out the door after Shane.

The air was cold, still and impossibly dry.
Taking it in hurt if it was drawn too sharply. Jerry took slow easy breaths to
prevent the sting. He looked for Shane, but the man had apparently taken the
advice and gone for a walk.

A soft and gentle whistle rose up from the
bridge and a waving hand caught Jerry’s eye. He waved back and the conscript
moved down the hill. Jerry crossed the street and made his way down the
embankment to where the three men were stationed under the bridge.

There was no one there. The conscripts had
disappeared.

The blow came from behind and caught him
behind the ear. There was a bounce to it that sounded like wood. Jerry stumbled
and fell into the fist of one of the other men. A third conscript came at him
from above and Jerry tumbled out of the way. He got to his feet but found Cody
behind him. The conscript grabbed him around the chest and held him tight as
the others regrouped.

Jerry stomped at the ground trying to put a
heel in the man’s foot, but that first strike had hit him hard and he could
barely stand. If Cody hadn’t been holding him up, Jerry was sure he would have
collapsed to the ground.

“Why are you guys being so gentle?” the
conscript that had waved him over asked. “We don’t need him alive.” He held up
a Japanese-style sword most likely made in China. The cross guard rattled as it
moved and the material around the grip dangled from between the man’s fingers.
“We just need his head.”

Cody wasn’t large, but years in the mine had
turned his muscles to iron cables. The other conscript approached and grabbed
Jerry by the hair. Together they brought him to his knees and stretched him out
across the ground. He could feel the blade of the katana on the back of his
neck. It was dull and nicked in a hundred places. He could smell the rust. He
closed his eyes. It was going to hurt.

The conscript brought the sword back above
his head and there was a sickening thud and a warm spray across Jerry’s neck.
He opened his eyes, surprised to discover he wasn’t dead. Cody released him and
Jerry did his best to roll away. He didn’t stop until he hit the river. The
cold water snapped his focus back into place and he looked for his attackers.

The man with the sword was dead. His head
collapsed from an aluminum baseball bat.

Shane held the bat in his hand and was
swinging it at the man who had grabbed Jerry’s head. Cody was disappearing over
the top of the hill.

The conscript put up his hands to block the
baseball bat but it did little to stop the force of the swing. There was
another wet thwack and the man went down hard. He wasn’t getting up.

Shane turned and found Jerry on the
riverbank. He ran down the bank and stuck out a hand.

Jerry took it and pulled himself to his feet.
They were still unsteady but he managed to find his balance. “Thanks again.
That’s twice today.”

Shane smiled. “I’ve got you.”

Jerry sat down hard on the concrete beneath
the bridge and tried to shake off the confusion while Shane retrieved the sword
and scabbard.

He dropped the bat and asked, “So you want to
tell me why they were trying to chop your head off?”

He couldn’t think. He only shrugged. “I guess
they weren’t fans of my plan.”

“Seems a pretty extreme way to offer
criticism,” Shane said.

Jerry nodded, but as his head cleared his
mind filled with questions. Christopher had gotten to these men.
But how?
Dominic was the only one that had left the party
when they passed through Durango. Had Christopher made it to the castle? Was
Erica safe? Was there someone beside Christopher and the king that knew who
they were?

There were too many possible answers and he
didn’t like any of them. He had to get back to the castle. He looked up river
hoping to see the princess’s boat. The sooner she was rescued, the sooner he
could get back to Erica.
 

TWELVE

Night fell
quickly over the valley town as the sun ducked away behind the western peaks.
As the light faded, torchbearers appeared and walked the streets igniting
braziers hung from the old streetlights. The brick buildings were that much
warmer in the firelight as Erica and Chewy finished up their house-hunting stroll
and she mused how the glow of these fires transformed the town into a scene
from a Dickens’s tale.

House-hunting
in the apocalypse wasn’t that much different
than it had been before. Though one’s wish list had changed considerably. Crown
molding fell lower on the list of priorities as an accessible sniper’s nest
moved closer to the top. And who cared about granite countertops as long as it
had room for a moat?

Location was
still the most important thing. While school districts and airport access were
no longer a part of the criteria, you wanted to make sure the home wasn’t
located too close to unexploded ordinance or an eternal burning
hellfire—a fairly common feature in any neighborhood located near a gas
well.

Anything that
glowed in the dark was best avoided, as were poisonous streams, man-eating
flora, mutant populations and that place up north infested with aggressive
squirrels.

Of course, the
closing process was much different from before. Instead of securing a loan and
signing a stack of papers one tree thick, the buyer simply moved in, sat down
and said, “I’ll take it.” Putting up a “home sweet home” or “live laugh love”
plaque was a purely ceremonial step and often skipped.

Here in the
Kingdom of the Five Peaks, however, things were a little more traditional.
Haggling would be involved and it was, without a doubt, a seller’s market.
There were no listings. The most someone could do was knock on the door of a
home they were interested in and hope the occupants were either interested in
selling or dying from something that worked quickly.

With the reward
Jerry had been promised, Erica doubted they would have trouble finding a place
should they decide to stay. She smiled at how fast the town had grown on her.
The quirky medieval bit would be easy enough to overlook if they were living in
a warm home in a safe town, hidden from the world by their assumed names.

There was a
squeal. Not one that arose her suspicions, but a delighted squeak. It was a
child that had spotted Chewy and ran across the street to pet the dog. Children
were always attracted to the mastiff and often rushed to pet her, but
they were always followed by a panicked parent trying to protect
their kid from a potential monster, or worse, the strangers that accompanied
the dog
.

“Puppy!” The
shriek was followed by the pat of little feet in the snow.

Chewy knew the
child was coming for her and eagerly met her halfway for a furious petting and
scruffing of fur. 

Erica smiled
and walked into the street. She scanned the area looking for the frantic
mother, but couldn’t find any sign of her. She turned around thinking maybe she
was behind her. There was only the girl.

“Your dog is
soooo cool,” the girl said and buried her face in Chewy’s.

“Her name is
Hannibal,” Erica said and winced at how it sounded. “But you can call her
Hannah.” 

“Hannah. You’re
a sweet dog.” The little girl laughed as Chewy licked her face.

“And what’s
your name?” Erica asked. The mother would appear screaming any second now.

“Emma,” she
said.

“Where’s your
mother, Emma?”

“At home.” The
little girl pointed to a building over her shoulder.

A woman stepped
onto the porch of the building Emma had called home and looked around. She
called for the girl, “Emma!”

“Yes, Mom?”

“Emma. The
streetlights are lit. You know what that means.”

The girl rolled
her eyes the way only a little girl could. “That it’s time to come in.” She
stood and gave Chewy one last hug. “Good dog, Hannah.” Emma turned and ran
home.

“It was nice
meeting you, Emma,” Erica called.

The girl waved
back. “Bye. I like your dog.”

In every other
town she had seen, the day ended at dark. Good nights were wished, dead bolts
were engaged, a chair was propped against the door and no one stepped outside
until morning.

Before
everything went to hell, the idea of speaking before a crowd was the number one
fear in the world. Now, people would gladly address a crowd provided they
didn’t have to do it at night. A fear of the dark was no longer just for
children and those with vivid imaginations. It was for everyone. True horrors
now lived in the dark. Things with teeth, claws and bad intentions haunted the
shadows and moved under the cover of night. And though many still denied this
fear, more and more people were “turning in early.”

Streetlights
alone weren’t enough to keep the fears away. Many towns had them. There was
something more at work in the kingdom. The walls, the knights,
the
people—everything worked together to put
inhabitants at ease.

The little
girl’s curfew stayed on Erica’s mind as she made her way to the address Brae
had given her. She didn’t see any more children, but the streets were alive
with people. None of which appeared in a hurry to find a locked door to hide
behind.

There was a
knight on every corner. Their appearance still made her chuckle but they greeted
the citizens with warm smiles and friendly inquiries. The town crier shouted
the hour at a respectable level as he pealed his bell softly through the
streets.

Erica turned
onto Brae’s street and the crowds disappeared. No one strolled here and even
the crier made a U-turn at the intersection. Erica and Chewy followed the
street down to a dirt road and found the address on the corner. A hotel sign
hung from one bracket on the corner of the two-story building. It was an older
building and had not been given the same love as the rest of the town.

She
double-checked the address and stepped inside. Her nose wasn’t ready for the
aromatic assault. Wasteland hooch had a burn that cleared sinuses whether you
were drinking it or not, and the lobby of the old hotel was filled with the
smell.

Chewy sneezed
several times as they crossed the empty lobby and found the staircase. Brae’s
place was on the second floor at the end of the hall. They passed a hallway
full of thin doors that did little to muffle conversation, some yelling and a
fair amount of what Erica identified as fake moaning.

She walked
slower as she counted the numbers on the doors.

Brae’s door was
at the end of the hall and Erica didn’t want to reach for the handle. She
didn’t want to knock.

The mastiff must
have sensed her apprehension and began to growl.

Erica wanted to
turn and walk away. No, she wanted to run from the building. Before she could
turn, the chain rattled on the other side of the door. Brae must have known she
was coming. Erica sighed and forced a smile as the door opened.

“Well. Look who
it is.” Tommy sweated cheap liquor and buttoned his shirt as he stepped into
the hall. “
’ad
I known ewe were staying ’ere, I would
’ave waited.” 

Erica put a
hand on Chewy’s head. The beast was on full alert. “Brae was kind enough to let
me stay here while my husband is on his quest.”

Tommy laughed,
coughed a bit and laughed some more. “Ewe really think ’e’s coming back? I
don’t think so, sweetheart. Ewe might as well get comfortable ’ere in the
’otel. But don’t ewe worry—Eye’m sure you’ll fit right in ’ere.”

He leaned in
close.

Chewy pulled at
her hand. It was all Erica could do to assure the dog she was safe. Was she
safe?

The smell of
his breath was a combination of things she’d rather not think about. He
whispered. “The question is, will I fit in?” He smiled again.

Erica had seen
her share of creepiness over the last few years. But nothing had made her skin
crawl like this man. But she held her composure and whispered back, “I don’t
understand.”

“Oh,” Tommy
smiled. “I think you do.”

Erica shook her
head. “I really don’t. Are you saying you don’t fit in?”

“What? That’s
not …”

She put on her
sad eyes. “Tommy, are you worried that people don’t like you?”

“Of course
not,” Tommy said, losing his horrid accent. “People love me. They think I’m
adorable.”

“Oh, that’s why
you put on the simpleton act. Very smart.”

“I’m not a
simpleton … no one’s acting around here! People like me for who I am.”

“So why are you
wondering if you’ll fit in?”

Watching Tommy
try to outthink the booze was almost amusing. The liquor had him outnumbered
and more than a decent head start. “I’m not … It’s …” He gave up and growled at
the girl.

Chewy growled
louder and almost pulled Erica’s shoulder free of the socket.

Tommy fell back
against the wall with his hands up by his chest. It took him a moment to find
his anger again. “You won’t always have that monster with you. The king is a
man of his word, but when your boy fails to deliver the princess, all bets will
be off and I’ll be back.” 

Erica held
Chewy back as Tommy stumbled down the hallway and into the staircase. As soon
as he was out of sight, the dog’s hackles settled and the growling stopped.

She pushed the
door open and stepped inside. Brae was wrapped in a sheet and sitting on the edge
of the bed with her back to the door.

“Really?” Erica
asked.

Brae didn’t
turn. “You’re early.”

“Sir Thomas the
idiot?”

“Don’t judge
me,” Brae said. “You have no idea.”

“If you’re
going to hook up with a knight, you should at least find one that would win an
argument with his own shadow.” 

Brae snapped,
“It’s not like that.”

“That’s what it
looks like to me. What else could it …oh God, you’re a whore.”

Brae burst into
tears. Chewy ran to the bed and set her head in the sobbing girl’s lap. Brae
jumped at first but soon rested her hand on the large furry head and began to
scratch behind her ears.

“I mean
,
they’re making you be a whore. Aren’t they?”

After a moment
of pet therapy, Brae began to explain. “Shane works the mines. I work the beds.
That’s the only reason we get to stay. Otherwise, they’d throw us back out into
the wild. I can’t live out there, Jen.”

Erica nodded to
remind herself that she was also Jen. She hadn’t practiced nicknames.

Brae continued.
“I can’t be out there. I guess I’m a city girl. I almost died when we had to
leave our home back east.” She stiffened up. “So I do what I have to. I’m a
survivor. I didn’t want you to know. I didn’t want Jerry to know. I was hoping
that the boys would be back with the princess and we’d all be citizens and all
of this would be in the past.”   

Chewy whimpered
and Brae turned to look Erica in the eye. “But who am I fooling? Even if I was
a citizen, I couldn’t stay here. They’d never treat me as anything but a whore.
You’ve seen it. I know you have. You’ve seen how the women look at me. They
look at me as if I’d slept with their husbands.” Brae hung her head. “And who
can blame them. I probably have.”

The tears began
to pour as she talked about her husband. She stammered and gasped. What she
said barely escaped as words. “And Shane, how could he stay with me? Even now,
how can he be with me? It makes no sense.”

“Because he
loves you. Men in love act stupid all the time. You know that.”

“He’s such a
good man. I don’t deserve him.”

“You’re very
lucky.”

Brae nodded.
“And you, too. Jerry was always the nicest guy.”

Erica picked up
a housecoat and draped it over Brae’s shoulders. “Look. Shane and Mike,” she
stressed Mike, “will be back. They’ll have rescued the stupid princess and then
we’ll all leave together.”

“But we owe …
we can’t just leave without paying back what we owe.”

Erica shook her
head. “It won’t be a problem. We’ll have enough to get Shane out of the mines,
you out of bed and send you both back east.”

“You’d do that?
For us?
But you barely know us.”

“Any friend of
Mike’s, right?” Erica winked.

Brae smiled but
it faded fast. “What if Tommy’s right? What if they’re not coming back?”

“You’d be
surprised at what Mike can do.”

A knock at the
door sent Brae hunting for her clothes. She wiped the tears and tried to will
away the stammering. “That will be the
girls
.”

A growl came
from the other side of the door—a woman’s voice trying to impersonate a
man impersonating a Viking, “FEAST!”