Nicademus: The Wild Ones (12 page)

It was done. She was definitely done.
Spent
.

Annabelle rubbed the knotted tendons of his back as he shuddered through the last of his orgasm. She imagined that what they shared would change and evolve the way the girls giggled about her down at the saloon. Right now it wasn’t all that great, yet extremely special because of her feelings for the outlaw. They’d have to try again.

**

 
“Where will you go?” she asked, her chin resting on his chest as she ran the pad of her index finger over his bottom lip. Their sleep was brief, with him waking her to cuddle and snuggle. “After, I mean. When we’ve settled this with the man Shepherd.”

“I dunno,” he said earnestly.

“I won’t ever see you again, will I?” she asked, pressing her face to his chest. Praying that her suspicions were wrong.

“I’m wanted by the law, and the law won’t stop hunting me. For me to stay and put down roots in your town, even if your Indian and that sheriff allowed it, puts you and everyone here in danger,” he said.

“I know,” she said sadly.

“If there was another way—” he began.

“Jeremiah, I understand. This was neva meant to be foreva. I understand that.” She looked up. “I have you for now. That’s enough.”

She felt bereft and discouraged over the pending end to their romance. Soon he was asleep again. But Annabelle couldn’t join him. She rose and left the warmth of his arms. Going through her dark cabin she dressed and put on a heavy robe. Slipping on shoes, she decided to visit the outhouse and get some fresh water. Maybe she’d make him breakfast before the sun rose and they’d share a meal.

The night was cooler than she expected. She held the lantern in her hand and looked toward the sleeping town. Even if he asked her to go with him, which she doubted he would, how could she leave? Nicademus was not only utopia for people like her, it was her sanctuary. No other place offered her such freedom.

Annabelle walked down the front steps and circled her home. She swung the lantern in her hand, reliving the feelings that he drove through her body. She smiled, considering doing it again since it felt sweeter each time.

Just as she cleared the side of her house a man reached out and grabbed her by the mouth. Shocked, she dropped her lantern and squealed, kicking her legs. Shepherd walked up smiling.

“Well look what we done caught.”

**

Jeremiah turned over. He missed her immediately. “Annie?”

Rising on his elbow he looked through the darkness. “Annabelle?”

He didn’t hear her. Concerned, he dressed. Where could she be? He went for the door and discovered that the bolt has been removed. She had to have gone out alone. “Annabelle!” he said, rushing out, forgetting the gun.

Jeremiah heard her scream as soon as he cleared the door. Icy dread crystalized in his gut. He dropped off the porch and ran. From nowhere he was collared and thrown to the ground. Winded and confused, he tried to fight off his attacker, but the man proved stronger.

The gunshot wound to his side split, and the delicate stitching Annabelle had done with such care opened. Agony sliced through him, blinding him with pain. He was pinned down with someone’s knee to his chest. The person leaned in and covered his mouth.

Jeremiah double blinked and his vision sharpened on the face of his attacker.
It was Red Sun
.

The Indian glared down at Jeremiah, then put a finger to his own lip to indicate he must remain silent. Jeremiah nodded. Red Sun rose, and the air returned to Jeremiah’s lungs. Jeremiah rubbed his aching torso and tried to stand. Fear for Annabelle made him anxious, and his misery insufferable. The sounds of her screams and the men’s laughter returned strength to his legs and brought him to his feet.

He had to get to her, quick.

His eyes cut over to the Indian who was staring in the direction of the attack.

“What are we waiting for?” he whispered hoarsely. He started to run for her but Red Sun threw out his arm and stopped him. Instead, Red Sun put a pistol in his hand. He then plucked his hatchet from his back pocket and pointed to the chicken hut.

Jeremiah’s eyes followed his point. The night shadows were impenetrable thanks to the reaching branches of the surrounding trees. It could be a perfect hiding place to pick her attackers off one by one. He nodded that he’d run for the hut and make sure his aim was accurate. Red Sun rotated his index finger upward indicating he’d circle the other side.

They both dashed off, itching for the fight.
 

**

“Boss, let me have a go at her first.” A young roughie began to loosen his gun belt. The man forced his hand over her mouth and groped her obscenely through the opening to her robe. Annabelle bit the inside of his dirty palm. Shocked, the brute released her. Instead of running she turned on him and attacked him like a wildcat. She clawed at his face and hit him with her fist.

“I’ll kill ya! I’ll kill ya dead!” she screamed. The man was either surprised or a coward. Annabelle assumed the latter. He fell back and she got on top of him and pounded his face with her fists.

“Well don’t just stand there,” Shepherd chuckled. “Get her!”

It took two of them to pull her off the man. But not even two men could calm her rage. She bucked and fought them both.

“She crazy and mean as a rattler! I oughta kill the bitch!” the man said as he got to his feet and drew his gun.

“Cool it, Roy,” Shepherd ordered. “Hold her still, boys,” he commanded.

Annabelle looked up at the leader of the men holding her through her hair that had fallen in her face. Shepherd stepped into her space. He smirked down at her. “We can do this easy or we can do it rough, what’s it gonna be?”

She smiled.

“What’s funny, gal?”

Annabelle coughed up phlegm and spat it in his face. Stunned, Shepherd backed up; she was meaner than a rattler, he thought. Angered, he struck her across the face so hard she nearly lost consciousness.

“Go check inside, find out if he’s in there,” Shepherd said. “That’s his fucking horse! I know it!” He removed his handkerchief and wiped the spit from his face. The one called Roy stared at Annabelle as if she was an alien.

“I’ve never seen a woman like you so wild,” he said to Annabelle. “Don’t you understand what we plans for you, missy?” he asked.

“You deaf, boy? Go check!” Shepherd hissed.

“Yes sir, boss,” Roy said. He nursed the bleeding hand she had bitten and walked back toward the cabin. One of the men let her go and went with him. The other held her by the arms. He kept them pinned behind her back. She had no defense. Her robe was open, her nakedness revealed. Shepherd eyed her. Annabelle was dazed from the strike. She hung her head to stop the effect the blow had on her vision.

“Curious about you, girl. How is it you so young and unspoiled? Who protecting you?” he asked.

She didn’t bother to answer. She just worked on harnessing her strength.

“You know, my pa once tell me that an angry bull is nothing but a pussy compared to an angry woman. You been raised to think you special.” Shepherd grabbed her chin and forced her face up. “I used to keep women like you down in N’awleens. Had a lot of fun breaking them. We gonna have some of that fun tonight.”

**

“I’m bleeding.” Gene cursed.

“Oh quit your bellyaching,” Roy said. “I’m the one with a bleeding hand!” He then stopped. Gene kept walking but soon stopped too and looked back. It must have been the look on Roy’s face that clued him in. An Indian was less than fifty feet before them. The red man stood tall as a tree with his coal black hair resting on his shoulders from a center parting. His eyes were dark. Roy saw his own death in those coal black eyes.

Before either could speak or react, the Indian threw something that Gene could not identify until it whizzed past his face and split Roy dead between the eyes. He looked back in horror to see the hatchet buried in his friend’s skull and the dead look that clouded his face. Roy was dead.

Gene fumbled for his guns. His delayed reaction was the death of him. The Indian was on him in seconds. Wrapping his big arm around his neck, he gave it a hard twist until the bones snapped like a twig. Gene pissed himself before he dropped.

Red Sun removed his hatchet and skinned them both of their scalps. Not a custom of his people, but one he made sure to adapt when taking the life of this kind of enemy. Since they believed him a savage, he’d deliver as one.

**

Jeremiah watched Shepherd grab at Annabelle’s chin. His finger twitched on the trigger and his body shook with urgent need. He had to be wise on this one. Pressing his lips together, he squinted in the dark, unsure of his aim. Then it came to him. Instead of risking hitting her, he shot one of the horses. The animal squealed and dropped, and the man holding Annabelle released her, drawing his six-shooters from his hips and firing blindly into the dark. Shepherd did as well. Jeremiah shot her assailant, as bark splintered near his head due to the return of gunfire. With no visual on their shooter, Shepherd slipped into the shadows.

“Shit! Annabelle, run!” he yelled.

Annabelle crawled away for cover. Jeremiah came from the dark side of the chicken hut pulling the trigger on the empty gun.
Where was Shep? Where?
His adrenaline and thirst for revenge was so strong he hadn’t realized the weapon he carried was useless.

“Where the hell are you?” he shouted.

He heard the sounds of a galloping horse. Jeremiah turned left and right and then caught a glimpse of Tyler Shepherd thanks to the moon as he rode off toward the mountains.

“Damn it!” he yelled running after him. But he staggered and stopped when the pain in his side became too much. Winded, he turned and walked back to Annabelle.

He found her. She was against the cabin weeping, her eyes stretched wide with shock. When she saw him she ran straight into his arms.

“I got you!” he swore.

Red Sun shot from around the side of the house on Jeremiah’s horse. He yelled something as he passed them and rode the horse hard in the direction Shepherd had run.

“What did he say?”

“He’s going after him,” she wept.

“It’s my fight, I should go with him.” He pulled her arms down. His eyes searched for another horse.

“No! He won’t wait for you!” she pulled on his arm. “Don’t leave me,” she pleaded.

Seeing the swelling to the side of her face stopped him. She nearly collapsed, so he swept her up in his arms. He carried her around the cabin, and kept her face pressed into his chest as he walked past the dead men, missing their scalps. Others from town were arriving. He could see the lanterns they carried and hear the commotion. The sheriff led the crowd and the one named Ms. Kitty was at his side. They met them both at the front porch, having heard the gunfire. The people had angry scowls on their faces, all focused on him.

“What happened?” Ms. Kitty demanded. “Where’s Red Sun?”

“Take her inside,” the sheriff commanded. He turned to the crowd of worried onlookers. “Go back! We’ll see to her. Nothing for any of you to do tonight. Go back.” His request was met with some loud opposition. It was all he heard before he carried Annabelle inside and placed her on the cot.

“What the hell happened here?” Ms. Kitty shoved him away. She checked Annabelle who continued to cry and shiver. Jeremiah paced. “Answer me, outlaw!”

“Shepherd came. He caught her outside. And then your Indian showed up. We got three dead men out there.”

The sheriff slammed the door. He glared at Jeremiah having heard the last of his statement. “Dead men?”

“They attacked us,” Jeremiah tried to explain.

“Shut up!” the sheriff shouted. “You bring this on our town. You!” he pointed at Jeremiah. “Where is Red Sun?” he asked.

“He went after him,” Jeremiah said.

Ms. Kitty stood. “Take it outside while I tend to her. Go!”

“Do I need to send for Doc Samuel?” the sheriff asked.

“No. You need to go. Both of you!” she demanded. “It’s a woman thing. I need to see if they took advantage of her.”

Jeremiah looked back at Annabelle. She had curled up into a frightened ball. Had the men raped her? He prayed to God they hadn’t. He prayed hard. The fight in her was gone. He wanted to care for her but the look of anger in Ms. Kitty’s eyes said he better not try. Reluctant and filled with regret he hung his head and went outside with the sheriff.

The sheriff paced the length of the porch before he turned and demanded a complete explanation. “Start from the beginning.”

“Annabelle was attacked. I told you,” he put his face in hands.

“I gather that, what else?” the sheriff asked.

Jeremiah’s eyes went to the door where Annabelle was, and his throat became dry. If Shepherd had changed her in any way he’d kill him with his bare hands. “She left the cabin and I went after her. When I got out there I met Red Sun. He and I took after the men who had her.”