A Town Called America (13 page)

Under the light of two lanterns, she examined the horses’ shoes, ensuring they were in good condition. She checked their teeth and took her time brushing the horses, as she found it to be very relaxing. It was time consuming, but time was one thing she had.

Chris stopped brushing the horses for a moment and looked down at the wound on her leg that Rick had been so insistent on getting
medical supplies for. She found herself in a difficult situation. She wanted to be honest with him and explain everything, as she had tried and failed to do many times before.

She wished she knew what the right answer was. Pulling the bandage aside and looking at the wound, she saw that it was already beginning to heal. By morning there would be no sign of any injury whatsoever. If Rick saw the wound had healed so quickly—and in fact disappeared altogether—she’d have no choice but to answer his questions, which was exactly what she was afraid of.

Because Chris had been playing it off for so long, she wondered how long it would be before Rick caught on. Over time she had been shot, stabbed, cut, and hit multiple times and never had a new scar. Whenever she was injured, she covered up the wound and wore the bandage for a few weeks, which to her was a reasonable amount of time, or until Rick believed she was healed. For now she would continue to keep her secret to herself.

The weather had turned windy and rainy, and it was getting very muggy inside the stable. It was the dead of summer and already night outside; Chris wondered how it could be so damn humid when the sun was down. She took off her green army jacket and now was wearing only a pair of tight, leather, low-rise pants and a black sleeveless T-shirt.

She had set down all her gear, including her weapons, in the office near the couch. From her hours of work with the horses, she was soaked in sweat, which made her shirt cling to her body, revealing her natural curves. With her hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, she continued to work.

Wiping the sweat from her face, Chris decided she needed some air. The humidity was beginning to get to her, and she was becoming increasingly agitated. She walked outside the stable into the rain, glancing around to confirm what she already knew: there were no people around.

She unbuckled her belt and stepped out of her leather pants, which had been clinging to her. Wearing only her panties and T-shirt, she pulled her hair from its ponytail and shook it loose. She then took a shower in the warm rain under the stars.

Looking up to the sky, Chris tried to catch the raindrops in her mouth. Feeling alive and free, she was truly happy and felt blessed to have Rick and Billy in her life. To be able to feel alive—well, it just didn’t happen too often, so this was one of those moments she wanted to hang on to for as long as she could. Things definitely were looking up for her, and she felt she was in the right place at the right time. As much as she loved Rick and cared about Billy, she was happy to have some time to herself.

As Chris washed her hair in the rain, she hadn’t noticed that two men were watching her from two hundred feet away. They both lay flat on the ground, observing her every move. They’d been there for some time, having seen Chris walk into the office with her gear and come out unarmed. A third man was moving toward her from the far side of the stable.

Chris, unaware of his presence, continued to shower. She had just pulled off her T-shirt off and was undoing her bra as the man moved swiftly and silently toward her. She had her back to him, which made things that much easier for him. The other two men saw their counterpart getting ready to move in from behind her; both of them were now ready to do what they were there to do.

As Chris stood in the rain, washing her long brown hair, she felt what she thought was a bee sting on her neck and slapped at it. Not knowing that something was sticking out of her neck, she inadvertently had pushed it in deeper. Feeling woozy, she pulled the small dart out of her neck.

“What the hell?” she said, as someone from behind grabbed her and lifted her from the ground. “Get the hell off me!”

Chris was screaming as loud as she could as she saw the two other men run toward her at full sprint. She struggled for her release as sheer anger filled her mind. She attempted to bite whoever was holding her but couldn’t get her mouth near him. She felt weak and knew the dart was making her feel that way.

As the two men ran toward her, she continued to struggle with whomever had grabbed her, but he just held her tighter, with her arms pinned to her side. As the other men came closer, Chris, without
thinking, lifted her leg from the ground and kicked one man hard in the face; pushing off him, she used his body to her advantage. The person holding her staggered back, as the man she kicked fell to his knees with blood spewing from a broken nose.

The other man, who was coming closer, stopped short of her being able to kick him. Chris then slammed her head backward into the nose of whoever was holding her. She felt and heard his nose and cheekbone break as her head made contact with him. When he let go, she knew it was her only chance to escape.

She ran as fast and hard as she could, but the drugs from the dart already had taken hold of her, and she wasn’t running even a fraction as fast as she wanted to. The unknown drug in her system was slowing her mind and her willpower.

The one man she hadn’t hit was now in chase, stopping for only a moment to shoot Chris three more times in the back with his tranquilizer gun. Chris staggered as the darts pierced her bare back. She knew she had only about a ten-second lead; she wasn’t trying to get away as much as create some distance between her and the two men still standing. Then just maybe she would have a chance.

Still running, Chris was about six hundred feet from where the attack had occurred. She tried to stop, but barefoot and dizzy, she lost her footing on the muddy ground and slid, landing facedown in the mud.

A moment later, using the last of her strength and will, she was on her feet, and the man was chasing her was in front of her. For a split second, both stood looking at each other until the man swung at Chris with a right hook. To his astonishment, Chris had moved three feet to his left, out of his reach. She then came around with her own hard right hook, hitting him in the side of his face. Dazed by the powerful blow and surprised by Chris’s strength, the man came around hard with a left hook, hitting Chris’s left eye and knocking her to the ground.

The man then took his opportunity to move in and grab her. Chris staggered to her knees; when he reached down to secure her, she punched him between the legs as hard as she could. He instantly
dropped to his knees as pain spread throughout his midsection and up his spine. Chris stood up and pushed her right knee hard into his face. Blood poured from his nose and the three-inch gash across his forehead. Surprisingly he stood and attempted another bear hug. She struggled, but once his large arms were around her slender body, he lifted her and threw her as hard as he could. Chris landed on the ground, her upper arm striking a large rock and dislodging from her shoulder.

Without hesitation he moved in again and picked Chris up again. Nearly unconscious and her body limp, the only thing she could do was spit a mouthful of blood in his face in a last show of contempt.

He then hit Chris in the face once more and tossed her to the ground again. “You bitch!” he said. “I have something for you!”

On her hands and knees in the rain and mud, she looked up at her attacker. Blood poured from her mouth, hands, and face. Suddenly she smiled. After spitting out a mouthful of blood, she said, “You know, I have something for you too.”

The man jumped on top of her, pinning her under his body. Chris struggled, but she was too weak from the tranquilizers. He moved his face close to hers in a feeble attempt to kiss her, and when he did, Chris pushed her face toward the side of the man’s neck and bit down hard. The man instantly let go as a huge chuck of his neck fell from her mouth to the ground.

Chris then picked up a rock just slightly bigger than her hand and swung it around, hitting the side of his head. Before he could realize what had happened, he was off Chris and lying on his side. With pure rage Chris stood and kicked him in the head, forcing him onto his back. She then sat on top of him, took his hair in her fingers, and beat his face with the rock. She felt his head split open with the first blow; blood and brain matter poured out of his skull, mixing with the mud and rain.

“Kiss this, you son of a bitch!” she said, smiling, as she leaned down and bit the side of his neck again. The blood filling her mouth and pouring down her throat was exactly what she needed to counter the effects of the tranquilizers. Chris slung her body upward after she
finished drinking the man’s life energy. Once more she beat his head with the rock, even though she knew he was dead.

In her passionate rage she had forgotten about the other two men. She felt three more darts and a strike from the butt end of a rifle, which, upon impact, she thought was a rock. Chris fell backward, landing on her back. Struggling to stand and barely able to see, she could just make out the red M.M. insignias on the men’s chests.

One of the two men grabbed her from behind, pinning her arms once more, while the other punched her in the face. “You bitch,” he snarled. “You killed Roberts.”

First he hit her with a left hook, followed by a shot to the midsection and another to the face. Chris could taste the blood filling her mouth but could do nothing to stop it. After what seemed a lifetime later, her nearly naked body fell limply to the ground.

“I think she’s dead,” one of the men said. “I can’t find a pulse.”

“You ever see anything like that before? I shot her six times, and she was still fighting. How’s that possible?”

“You know, Mike, I think you have no idea how to use that thing. If you did, she would have gone down like she was supposed to with the first dart, and you wouldn’t have a busted face.”

“Oh, yeah? Is that it, Allen? You think I don’t know how to use my own tranquilizer gun?”

“Nope. I don’t.”

Mike didn’t even look at Allen when he pointed the tranquilizer gun at him and pulled the trigger. A single dart shot from the weapon and hit Allen in the neck. Not a second later, Allen stopped walking and gave Mike a confused look just before he fell to the ground.

“I told you it only takes one dart, you stupid shit,” Mike said. “Try and tell me I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Mike sat on his horse after placing Chris’s limp body over the back, just behind the saddle. He looked at Allen lying on the ground below him. Shaking his head and mumbling about only needing one dart, he rode off, leaving his friend lying in the rain and mud.

TWENTY TWO

R
ick and Billy spent the night in the hotel suite. It took a good while, but Billy eventually started to relax. Both men played a couple games of pool while they discussed the hotel, why it had electricity, and why the EMP hadn’t affected it. After all, Rick, Chris and Billy had learned during their travels that there were multiple EMPS set off by the M.M. across the country, and until then they had yet to find anyplace not effected.

That was another question Rick had asked Jackie that he had averted answering. Why was the building unaffected? As soon as the EMP had gone off, everything else had returned to the fifteenth century.

They discussed their theories, none of which was practical. Rick jokingly suggested aliens had landed on the building, and the EMP was from the mother ship, which had blasted the electrical grid. Billy commented by saying that meant Jackie was either an alien himself or was holding the aliens captive in the kitchen and using their technology to keep the building going. Both men had a few good laughs before going to sleep for the night.

The next morning they awoke to a knock on the door, after which another man in a black jumpsuit entered the room. He informed them that they’d been invited to lunch. Rick and Billy showered then put on clean clothes, which one of Jackie’s soldiers had laundered the night
before and returned to them. The sensation of clean cotton on their bodies was a welcoming feeling the men didn’t realize they missed until they felt the freshly washed clothes against their skin.

After dressing they stepped into the hallway, where they met two more soldiers.

“I’m Corporal Richards, and this is Sergeant First Class Neafus,” one of them said. “We’ll be your escorts today. If you have any questions or need anything at all, we’re here to serve you on behalf of the M.M. and Colonel Jackie.”

Richards was short and stocky, with a military haircut, and he spoke in an intelligent, articulate manner. Neafus was taller and thinner but seemed just as bright as his counterpart, although he spoke with a deep Southern drawl that made him a bit difficult to understand, especially because he spoke rather quickly.

“You know, Corporal Richards, one of these days you might just want to get promoted. Well, if you can ever pass the exam,” Neafus said with a laugh, when the men were in the elevator. “When our shift is done, you can come down to the parking garage and help me work on my bitching-ass Camaro.”

Richards ignored him, looking only at Billy and Rick. “If you gentlemen would please follow us…” he said, as they stepped off the elevator.

The dining room was located on the first floor. It was a long, rectangular room with a dozen tables that sat at least five people each. A white tablecloth adorned each one, but the only table that was ready with plates, glasses, and silverware was the one where Jackie sat. He was in fact the only person in the room other than the two soldiers who had escorted Rick and Billy.

“Please join me,” Jackie said, gesturing them to his table.

The two soldiers stood at their post near the doorway. The only other door in the room was the one Rick and Billy assumed led to the kitchen.

After walking through the dining room, which was very elegant, with spectacular paintings on the walls of majestic ocean scenes, and flawless crown molding, both men joined Jackie at the table.