Ash: Rise of the Republic (26 page)

They squared off again, pausing for a
moment. The Chief pressed a hand to the deep cut in his side. He
brought the blood to his lips, tasted it, and then smeared it on
his face and growled.

“You fight like a coward.”

“Hah! I’m an old man, I just wanted to even
the odds a bit.” He holstered the revolver. “You call me a coward
but you’re the one who’s usually running away when we meet.”

They were circling again, each man waiting
for a chance to strike. The Chief was slower now, limping.
Lightening flickered briefly in the distance, the sudden light
revealed a grin on his dreadful, blood smeared visage. He laughed
again.

“I ate that little red-headed bitch of
yours. The one I caught at the warehouse. I roasted her with some
black pepper. I fed her offal to my pigs.”

This time the Captain charged, and this time
the Chief’s long blade was wet when they parted. The Captain felt
warm blood soaking his shirt. They circled again and again.

“You probably don’t remember, but your
father shit his pants after Tracy shot him. The smell was
awful.”

The Chief howled and charged again. The
Captain dodged frantically and kicked out, his boot catching a
kneecap. The big man fell heavily, the knife skittered off the edge
of the rig floor. He scrambled to his feet before the Captain could
press the attack home and picked up a huge pipe wrench from where
it leaned against a handrail.

He came again, swinging the wrench in great,
whistling sweeps. The Captain retreated before the onslaught. He
ducked beneath the last blow and lunged forward, jerking the knife
up in search of flesh, but it was the Chief’s turn to sidestep. The
huge iron wrench cracked down on the Captain’s wrist with a
sickening crunch, the knife fell useless to the ground.

McLellan reached for his pistol again but
the Chief hit him in the chest with a tremendous back hand swing of
the wrench, lifting him from his feet and sending the gun scraping
along the steel floor. He fell heavily, and gasped for air. He
risked a look up and saw the wrench coming for him ponderously. He
rolled to his right as it clanged into the floor next to his head.
The Chief groaned as the shock reverberated through his arm.

The Captain saw a wooden handle and grabbed
for it. He threw the sledge hammer wildly and it smashed the
Chief’s temple with a wet thump. The big savage dropped the wrench
and shook his head to clear the sudden stars. He stumbled to the
old man and fell on him, pinning him to the ground with his great
bulk. He scrambled up to dig a knee into his chest and began
smashing his big fists down, landing blow after blow.

The Captain squirmed, desperate to escape,
but the Chief kept pounding him. His head slammed back into the
cold steel with each blow. He flailed his arms, searching for a
weapon. He felt the bones in his face giving way.

Then the blows stopped. The night was
suddenly bright, the rig floor was illuminated in a cool white
light. The glow revealed his last chance: his big revolver lay a
few inches from his face. He turned to the Chief, suddenly
realizing that the pummeling had stopped. The savage man was
staring out at the sky, his mouth hanging open.

The click of the hammer broke his reverie.
McLelland didn't give him time to process the new development. He
put the fat barrel in his gut and pulled the trigger.

Wiping the blood from his face, the Captain
turned to see what had transfixed the man.

The moon! A full moon. A sight he hadn't
seen in thirty years. And stars! The clouds were breaking at last.
He struggled for a moment to roll the Chief’s limp body to the side
and then crawled over to lean against the drawworks. He faced east,
hoping he would last long enough for a glimpse of the sun.

Epilogue

*

“
The suppression of the Outlaw
Uprising ushered in an era of turmoil for the Republic. Though the
battle of Hempstead and the disappearance of Robert Werner
effectively ended the outlaw menace, a new threat was festering to
the west.”

-Daniel Galloway, ‘Risen From The Ash: A History of
the Republic’; RNT University Press, 50 PC (2065 AD);

*

He woke up in the sky. The wind roared in his ears.
His head was white with pain. Straps were tight across his forehead
and chest. He struggled for a moment, but hands held him still. He
opened his eyes. A helicopter. One of the flight crew, a medic,
pushed a headset over his ears.

“Can you hear me, Captain?” He tried to
speak but no words would come out.

“Don’t try to speak, there’s a tube in your
throat. Hang on.” The medic pulled and the tube came free with a
choking suction. “We’ve been looking for you all day. What were you
doing all alone up there on that rig? ”

“Deb?” He croaked.

“Just rest Captain.” A needle pricked him
and warmth flooded through his veins. He rested.

****

The hospital room was bright, brighter than he’d seen
a room in years. Sunlight gleamed through the grimy windows. The
walls were bare. He floated in a daze for a few minutes, enjoying
the morphine. Memories slowly flooded back. He sat up, head
pounding. The room swam for a moment and he steadied himself. He
ripped the needles from his arm and stumbled from the bed. There
were people passing in the hall when he yanked the door open. His
vision swam again.

“Deb!” he howled, his voice hoarse from
disuse. Orderlies and doctors scurrying busily through the halls
turned at the sudden noise. He advanced down the hallway, moving
faster now, feeling stronger after the shout.

“One of you bastards had better produce my
wife. If you let her die then one of you owes me a fresh pair of
balls. Come here you little shit!” There was a satisfying glint of
fear in the nearest doctor’s eyes. He lunged at him, but stopped
short at the sound of a familiar voice from behind him.

“Husband! You leave that poor boy alone! He
saved your useless skull, god knows why.” Tears welled up as he
turned. Deb sat in a wheelchair just outside the doorway he had
just left.

“I was just gonna break a few fingers…”

“God dammit! I’ve been waiting here for your
stubborn ass to wake up for hours! I finally take a piss and you
decide to break loose and terrorize the hospital with your ass
hanging out! Get back in that bed!” She pointed to the room.

He fell to his knees in front of her and
wrapped her in his arms.

“Good god, not so tight! I was stabbed,
remember?”

“Sorry.” He kissed her over and over.

****

The Captain and his wife lounged in their rooms on
the top floor of the ranger barracks for a week. They moved their
bed near the window so that the warm sunlight woke them up each
morning. Their troops brought them meals, sometimes the whole
company would crowd in and they would have dinner like a family.
There was laughter and wine; they hung no outlaws and no one died
bleeding in the ash.

The Governor sent for them on the seventh
day. They met Captain Collier outside the office, looking out of
place in the luxurious waiting room. He shrugged when they asked
why they were there.

They went in together. Governor Garza was
pacing behind his desk, muttering to himself. After a moment, the
Governor looked up at them and smiled, gesturing distractedly at a
row of chairs.

“Please, sit, sit. Mrs. McLelland, how are
your wounds?”

“Could be worse, I’ll live. Thank you for
asking. I’m sorry about your son.”

“Yes, a great tragedy. The reports say he
fought well, so at least he left us with a brave legacy.”

“Yes, he did well, died a warriors death.
Couldn’t ask for more.” The Captain lied gracefully.

“It’s a shame about Price, the boy had
potential. At least he died gallantly – the bullet entered the back
of his head, so he must have been turned toward the troops,
ordering them forward.”

The Captain looked appropriately surprised
and nodded. “A heavy price was paid that day.”

The Governor walked to the window and stared
out at the sunlit campus. He stood there silent for a moment. The
Captain finally cleared his throat.

“What can we do for you, Ruben?”

The Governor turned and looked him in the
eye. “I need you back to work, Captain. I can’t thank you enough
for all you’ve done; you deserve a lifetime of rest, but there is
too much happening right n230ow. The Texan Union is boiling over.
There have been raids up and down the border. They think this
fiasco with Werner shows that we’re weak, I’m afraid they’ll strike
deep any moment. We’ve got to put their lid back on as soon as
possible. On top of that, Congress is demanding we renew our
efforts to establish diplomatic relations with our neighbors to the
north. And, like usual, the scientists are clamoring for an
expedition to Yellowstone, god knows why anyone would want to go up
there. Ever since the clouds broke they’ve been agitated. They’re
actually gaining some traction with a few of the senators. I need
you, McLelland, the Republic needs you.”

“With all due respect, Governor, I was
thinking about retiring…”

The Governor leaned over his desk toward
him. A sly smile crossed his face. “With all due respect, Captain,
that’s bullshit and we both know it.”

~~~~

Thank you for reading Ash: Rise of the
Republic. If you enjoyed it, I hope you will take the time to leave
me a review at your favorite retailer. Captain McLelland and the
1st Rangers will ride again soon.

About
the Author

Campbell Young graduated from Texas A&M
University with a degree in geology. He worked in the oilfield and
made far too much money for several years. Now he lives in Houston
with too many dogs and a wife he loves very much.

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http://twitter.com/campbellpyoung

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