Reckon<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The\nsky bled red as the smoke from blazing fires cloaked the land. The shadows on\nthe hills reflected purple where ash and dust were all that was left behind of\nthe landscape. The stench of rotting meat flared nostrils, turning smoke rancid\nand stomachs sour. The sickness had taken so many; all that was left was to\nburn the infected zones to soot. The Carmine brothers watched from the back of\nsturdy horses. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThat\nwould be up at Ma and Pa’s place by now. Reckon they burned them too?\u201d Hank\nasked the back of his older brother. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bo\nspat a wad of tobacco on the earth, the yellowing grass rustling beneath his\nhorse’s hooves. \u201cI reckon they are burning ’em all.\u201d Bo nudged his mount,\nturning the animal away from the hills, steering him into the deepest part of Grave Valley.\n\u201cLet’s get moving, sun’s going down. Don’t want to be in the open come\nnightfall.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Hank\nfollowed Bo, watching over his shoulder a moment longer. He turned ahead and\nurged his horse to catch up. \u201cFigure we’ll find some rabbit for dinner?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bo nodded out a slight grunt of\nacknowledgment as he watched the ground ahead of him for anything to trip up\nhis horse. The last thing they needed was to lose a mount to a rabbit hole\ntucked under the shadow of a sage bush. Hank tended to talk a lot, especially\nwhen he was nervous. Lately Hank talked all the time. Bo had had a lifetime of\ntelling him to shut up, since their folks had been lost to the sickness, he’d\nstopped telling Hank to be quiet. He listened to his younger brother, who though\nhe was nineteen now seemed more like a kid to Bo than ever, rattle on about\nthis and that inane thing. He figured it kept his mind off what was really\ngoing on; everything was different now. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHey, Bo!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bo was jerked out of his thoughts\nreflexively pulling his horse to a halt. He looked back, bracing himself to see\nthe worst. Hank hadn’t gotten sick, neither had he. They had strong\nconstitutions their mother had said, but so had their father. Bo remembered\nhearing something on the news before the television stopped working that some\nof the population would be immune. He told himself that was the reason they\nhadn’t gotten sick, they had their mother’s hearty stock in them. She had died\nanyway. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI think I see some cattle! Up on\nthat ridge!\u201d Hank stood in his stirrups, leaning forward and pointing towards a\ndarkening horizon. \u201cYeah! It’s some cows! Holy shit.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDon’t cuss.\u201d Bo said, it was a\nreflex. His father had said it to them growing up, and it had come to him\nsecond nature when he’d taken over as the man of the house. Bo shielded his\neyes, hoping to block the low hanging light and better look at what had Hank’s attention. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
After a moment he dropped his hand.\nHe needed a closer look. \u201cWait here.\u201d He ordered, urging his horse forward. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
His horse, Old Trooper, traveled\nforward at a steady trot. A few yards closer Bo could make out the distinct\noutline of open range cattle, grazing on drying grass beds. Throwing caution\naside Bo pushed his horse to a faster speed, steering him around a hazardous looking\nset of diminutive boulders. He slowed when the first of the haphazardly\ngathered cattle shied away from where they were feasting. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
It was less than a dozen cows,\nscattered over a half acre. They had spread across a flat plain that crested as\na small butte away from the rest of the landscape. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cReckon they’re ours?\u201d Hank asked\nfrom behind him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bo sighed. \u201cThought I told you to\nwait?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI got lonely. They could be ours.\nThis ain’t that far from the ranch.\u201d Hank’s horse mirrored her rider’s\nexcitement, legs dancing along the ground before settling next to Bo and Old\nTrooper. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI can’t rightly tell unless I get a\ngood look at ’em. And I can’t do that with you chattering away like a damn\nsquirrel.\u201d Bo immediately regretted snapping at Hank. It wasn’t Hank’s fault\nthat Bo was jumpy. He felt like a new colt on the trail; everything was a\nmonster until proven otherwise. Everything was a threat. Everyone who wasn’t\nthem could not be trusted. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
That was the moment Bo knew it was\nreally over, that their way of life was gone for real; when their neighbor held\na shot gun on them and took their father’s pickup. Old Man Brooks had lived at\nthe neighboring homestead to the Carmine Ranch since before the boys had been\nborn. He had helped with branding in the fall, and sorting cattle for market.\nHe’d come to gatherings and grilled steaks on a long bed smoker for volunteers\nduring gathering season. But the power had gone, and with it much of the\ncommunication with the outside world. Nestled in the fertile valleys that crawled\nalong the edges of the Snake River their rural\ncommunity had been long forgotten by any body that would care what was\nhappening. They had avoided the worst of the sickness for the better part of a\nyear, but they too had people fall ill. Mr Brooks had decided he needed to\nleave. When his own busted down old Ford wasn’t up to the job he’d come to the\ndoor and taken the three year old truck Jon Carmine had been so proud of. He’d\nput a gun in Bo’s face and made his demands. Until that moment Bo had always\nthought Mr. Brooks was their friend. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
It was then, staring Mr Brooks in\nthe eye, and later watching him drive away with the most reliable vehicle on\nthe ranch, that Bo knew being civilized was done for. Half the world’s\npopulation dead, and the other half divided between the dying and those not yet\nsick, or immune, there was no authority left to take control of the situation.\nAnd the rules of good men, the rules their father had drilled into their heads\nas growing boys, did not matter any more. Being a good Christian man was worth\nonly as much as what was right in your hand. If God gave a damn about people\nany more he was taking his time with showing it. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bo moved Old Trooper forward,\nsteering the horse to round up the backside of the cattle, trying to get a\ncloser look at their hides. He’d spent his entire life on the ranch, until the\nFirebugs had come through to burn the infected zones to the ground, Bo had\nthought he’d never have a reason to leave his family’s land. Now the house he’d\ngrown up in, that his father had grown up in, and his grandfather before that,\nwas gone. Nothing but cinder and smoke any more. The cow nearest him grunt, it\nwas a steer not more than a couple of years old, too young to be of much use to\nthe market \u2013 when there had been a market. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cCan’t tell if that one’s got our\nbrand on it…\u201d Hank muttered. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bo felt a repeat of the same\nexasperation he’d known growing up with Hank on his heels. He pushed past the\nyoung steer to the nearest heifer, on her flank was a distinct C with a line\nthrough the middle of it and a small cross tucked at the mouth. It was the\nCarmine Ranch logo, the same brand that had been seared into cow hide for\ngenerations. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHey this one is ours!\u201d Hank called\nout from where his horse shifted beneath him. He had moved to another heifer\nthis one trotted a few paces to put some distance between them when he’d gotten\ntoo close.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYeah, looks like some of them are.\nMust have fled when they started burning and mixed with some other stock.\nProbably from the Travers place and a few others up the river.\u201d Bo took a\nmoment to survey the few cattle in front of them. \u201cWell… Let’s get them\ngathered up. No sense leaving ’em out here to get picked off by the damn\ncoyotes.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSure thing, Bo!\u201d Hank was more\nexcited at the prospect of rounding up the cattle than the practicalities of\ndoing such. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bo wasn’t sure what he wanted to do\nwith them, except that it seemed a waste to just leave them where they were.\nWho knew how long before the Firebugs managed to catch the whole region on fire\nand smoked them all out. He didn’t know what he was going to do with them once\nhe had them all gathered in a smaller area. He had legal claim to anything with\nthe Carmine brand on it’s hip, but it wasn’t like there was a line looking to\nclaim anything out here. But it felt good, it felt normal, for him to nudge his\nhorse closer to the cows, and watch them move away from the pressure. It felt\nlike how he would have spent any other day in his life. And for a few moments\nhe embraced what little normalcy the world had left, cattle still had no business out in the wide\nopen in so few numbers with no one to watch over them. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\n
The fire crackled hot, and fast. The\ndried sage that was so abundant all around them made for ready and hot fuel.\nThe light cast from the flames forced the twin shadows of the brothers to dance\nagainst the jagged edge of the rock formation they were tucked against. Bo and\nHank had made a make shift camp in fading light, they could hear the droll\ncalls of the cattle to one another as they milled about just out of the ring of\nfirelight. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
In the darkness with out the influence of\nartificial light, or the hum of modern technology there was a distinct feeling\nof insecurity. The brothers had rifles tucked close to their bodies, but ammunition\nwas a commodity best saved for hunting. They had snared three small ground\nsquirrels to make a meal of, and gnawed hungrily on the charred bones. It was\none of the few times Hank could be relied upon to stay quiet; when his mouth\nwas full. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
A heifer called out an anxious cry\nin the darkness, and Bo turned his eyes towards the night, trying to pierce it.\nHe longed for his flashlight, even though the batteries had died a week ago.\nHe’d done his best to conserve their energy but everything had an expiration\ndate. Including human civilization.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201c’pose she’s worried about the\ncoyotes?\u201d Hank asked, wiping the back of his hand across the grease on his\nlips. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cPossibly.\u201d The coyotes were a\nproblem. They had learned quickly how dangerous a scavenger could be that did\nnot fear humans. They could do a lot of damage to their precious little\nbelongings in a short amount of time if they weren’t careful. And Bo hadn’t\nmentioned it to Hank but he wasn’t entirely certain that the coyotes hadn’t\nmoved themselves up a few pegs on the food chain. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
The heifer cried out again, followed\nby a different cow, in the same anxiety riddled tone. Hank looked at his\nbrother, and Bo’s hand had settled subtly onto the grip of the long rifle\nparked next to him on the gritty ground. Hank rubbed his hands across the\nbreast of his coat before reaching for his own gun. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat’s goin’ on, Bo?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cShhh!\u201d Bo hissed, leaning forward\nto try and get a better look past their little campsite. The darkness was so\ncomplete that it might as well have been a curtain surrounding their spot. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cJust ease up off the gun there,\nbrother.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
A cold chill settled over Bo that\nhad nothing to do with the rapidly falling temperatures in the desert. The\nvoice was cool, and calm. It’s deep baritone reflected a rule and control over\nthe situation, it belonged not to a man struggling with desperation but one in\ncomplete command of his circumstances. In the bleak situation of the world the\nCarmine boys had found themselves in; someone who was thriving was a terrifying\nproposition. Bo slowly raised his hand away from his gun, and nodded at Hank to\ndo the same. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Hank hesitated a moment before he\nlet his gun settle back onto the dirt, his eyes darting between where the voice\nhad come out of the blackness around them, and his brother. Bo’s face was\nplacid, but his eyes were hard and they never moved to glance around him. Where\never the threat was going to come from, Bo knew with certainty the source of it\nwould be the voice in the dark. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
It\nwas the polished barrel of a 30.6 that came to light first, followed by a pair\nof dirty laden boots. They both belonged to a tall, and imposing figure of a\nman no older than Bo himself. Like Bo and Hank he sported the growth of a beard\nthat was the result of no longer shaving regularly, and strands of his greasy\nblond hair poked from under the sides of a broad rimmed hat. He had a strong\nbuild, with big muscles on his arms that suggested he’d been using them longer\nthan the virus had been wreaking havoc on everything anyone knew. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWell\nshit.\u201d He said and his weapon lowered slightly, the muzzle still trained\ntowards the brother, but the rigidity in his posture seemed to dissolve as a\nbroad, shadowy grin split his square face. \u201cBo? Bo Carmine? Well fuck me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Hank\nstared at his brother, waiting for some kind of clue as to what was happening.\nBo kept his eyes trained on the new comer, his hands remaining in plain view,\nand he was still.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cBo,\nman! It’s me! It’s Jason!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
At\nthe name recognition dawned on Bo, but none of the tension left his body. He\nnodded his head, slowly and kicked one of his legs out to position it better to\nstand up. He set his other hand on Hank’s forearm, keeping his brother still\nand seated. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHey,\nJason. Fancy seein’ you here.\u201d Bo offered in greeting.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jason\nlowered his weapon and set the butt of it against the earth, the muzzle pointed\nto the sky he leaned across it cozily.\n\u201cShit, man. Haven’t seen you since \u2026 well damn it’s been a while.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bo\nnodded. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHey\nguys! It’s alright come on out here!\u201d Jason called over his shoulder.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Three\nother figures melted out of the darkness, two young women and a man. The\nyoungest of the girls couldn’t have been any older than Hank, and her wide eyed\nterror showed in the shaky hands that clutched at a hand gun heavy enough she\nhad to double fist it to keep it elevated. The older of the girls had the\nhaunted look of hunger; not just the kind that came from an empty belly either.\nThe man looked to have a couple of years on either Jason or Bo, his face was\ndark with heavy circles and suspicion. His scrawny arms held a rifle not\ndissimilar to the one Bo carried, but it looked oversized and unwieldy in his\ngrip. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cGuys\nthis here is Beauregard Carmine, he was my wide receiver in school.\u201d Jason\nmotioned at the three newest people around the fire, and at the signal they\nlowered their weapons to varying degrees of obvious relief. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou\nwent to college with him, Jason?\u201d The girl with the starved eyes asked. Her\nvoice had a deep rasp to it, that reminded \nBo of when he walked across crushed gravel. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNah,\nFaith. Bo here never went to college. This was back in high school.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThat\ntrue, Bo?\u201d It was Hank. His face was gaunt with worry, and he stared at his\nbrother. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bo\nlicked his lips, eyeing those present. His eyes lingered on the other man, on\nthe suspicious gleam in his eyes, and the way his gaze rabbited from Jason to\nBo and back again. The discomfort radiated off of him like waves of heat from\nthe noon day sun. \u201cYeah. We played ball together.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bo\nforced his posture to ease, and he flashed a tempered smile at his brother.\n\u201cJason here was the quarter back.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cOh\nshit. Jason Travis… Yeah. Yeah. I remember you.\u201d Hank’s shoulders slouched\nforward and he grinned at the new comer. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWell\nI’ll be \u2026 Hank? Little Hanky panky?\u201d Jason picked up his gun and slung it over\none shoulder as he came closer to the fire. \u201cWell damn, kid, you’re all grown\nup now.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Hank\nflinched unknowingly at the old nickname. \u201cYeah. Well it’s been a while.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cShit.\nWhere’s my manners, huh?\u201d Jason waved his hand back at his three companions.\n\u201cThis here is Faith, Sara and that\nfaggot’s Tyler.\nGuys this is Bo and Hank Carmine. Bo was the fastest set of feet in the state.\u201d\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Faith’s\ndark, beady eyes scanned over the brothers. \nShe nodded in acknowledgment of what Jason said. Sara nodded, and tucked\nherself into the shadow cast by the tall, and lean Tyler. Tyler\ndidn’t flinch at the way he was introduced, his chin was held high and his eyes\nnever faltered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSo,\nboys.\u201d Jason said turning his attention\nout towards the night and the cattle grazing nearby. \u201cThese your cattle?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYeah.\u201d\nHank supplied. \u201cOw! Hey.\u201d Bo’s elbow jabbed him in the ribs. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHere\nI was thinking any cows found out here were finders keepers. Where ya’ll find\nthem?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cFinders\nkeepers.\u201d Bo answered, his smile wry.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHeh,\nYeah.\u201d Jason rubbed a meaty hand over his beard. \u201cWhere you headed with ’em?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo\nwhere in particular.\u201d Truthfully Bo hadn’t really come up with a plan yet. He\nhad simply been moving the cattle along the path of the river out of habit, not\nbecause he had any destination in mind. \nHe doubted any of the ranches he was familiar with in the region had\nbeen spared any fate less charred then their own homestead.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHere\nwe were thinking that we’d found ourselves a prototype McDonald’s. You know the\nbeta version.\u201d Jason chuckled, and was echoed to varying degrees by his\ncompanions. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Hank\nrubbed at his side and stared at his brother. He kept his mouth shut. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWell,\ndon’t think any of our cattle are going to be big mac’s any time soon.\u201d Bo kept\nhis eyes on Jason.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYeah,\nbut since you’ve got these cows, and we –\u201d Jason pointed to the three others\nwho had arrived with him. \u201c– could really use some cows. And it looks to me\nyou could use some help watching ’em, after all we got all up in your business\nand you didn’t even know it…. Maybe we join forces, you know?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bo\ndidn’t say anything. Jason continued. \u201cSee we heard about this safe zone. Place where the virus hasn’t struck. And the\nFirebugs have steered clear. It’s clean, man. It’s a clean place. We’re heading\nthere. But we need food, I mean christ will you look at Tyler over there? Damn fag is going to get\nblown over in a stiff breeze he don’t get some meat on him…\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bo\nglanced at Tyler,\nwho’s face remained entirely unreadable. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201c…So\nI was thinking here– \u201c Jason explained.\n\u201c– you and me we team up. Like old times. And we drive these cattle to that\nsafe zone, you know? Together.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cTogether?\u201d\nBo questioned. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYeah.\nYeah. Together. Like old times, the quarter back and the wide receiver.\u201d Jason\nnodded vigorously.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAin’t\nmy call. You wanna give me a minute to talk it over with my brother?\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYeah.\nYeah. Sure. Discuss amongst yourselves.\u201d Jason took a step back, and his three\nfollowers did the same. They turned their backs, huddling closer to one another\nthen they did Jason. Jason had taken a respectful step away, but his keen eyes\nwere keyed in on Bo. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bo\nleaned closer to Hank, and spoke low enough to keep his voice from traveling.\n\u201cWhatcha think?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\nthink–\u201d Hank started with his voice too loud, and quickly lowered it. \u201cI think\nwe could use some help with the cattle. And we ain’t got no where else to go.\nIf there really is a safe zone…\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYeah…\u201d\nBo couldn’t argue with the promise of a place that was safe, where some\nvestiges of civilization remained. Some place the virus hadn’t wiped all trace\nof humanity from the people in it’s wake.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou\nplayed ball with him right, Bo?\u201d Hank queeried.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYeah.\nBut that was a long time ago.\u201d Bo hadn’t really thought about his high school\ndays for years. He’d let himself get consumed with the ranch, so much so he’d\nforgone a lot of other things that young men his age had embraced; including\ncollege. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWell\nI mean you knew him. He was your friend. We can trust him, right? I say we do\nit. Ain’t like the Firebugs are gonna leave anything to go home to anyway.\u201d\nHank said the last with a sour current in his tone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bo\nhad known Jason in high school. They had even run in the same circles by virtue\nof having played football together since junior high. Bo had known Jason.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhy\nhesitate? I mean I ‘member him coming to\nyour birthday…\u201d Hank chewed his lower lip, fidgeting. \u201cHe was your friend,\nright?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYeah.\u201d\nBo looked at Jason across the fire. \u201cYeah I knew him…\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jason\nmoved in closer. \u201cSo you guys in?\u201d The eagerness dripped off him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bo\ngot to his feet, pushing himself up off the hard ground. He dusted himself off\nbefore approaching Jason. He held his hand out. \u201cSo. Where we headed?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHow\nlong do you think it’s going to take to get to the Pallisades, Bo?\u201d Hank was\nasking questions again. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cA\ncouple weeks. Now, quiet.\u201d Bo approached the building on foot. It was an old\nfarm house, like many in the region, built near a century ago with a tin roof\nand shutters that weren’t just for appearances. There were no vehicles parked\nin front of a detached garage, and the weeds had grown up around the tractor\nparked near a barn that hadn’t been as well maintained as the house. A pasture\nthat came out of the back of the barn housed four horses, that sported tangled\nmanes and tails but lacked any other signs of malnutrition. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
The\nbrothers approached the house in silence, after Bo shot Hank a warning look\nwhen he opened his mouth again. Bo slowed his gait as he neared the front\nsteps, pausing to pick up a piece of weathered, water stained paper caught by\nan exposed nail on a wooden plank.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Hank\nkept going peering through a dirty, single pane window. \u201cThink any body’s\nhome?\u201d
\nHe didn’t wait for a reply before pulling on the handle of the rusted screen\ndoor.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cStop.\u201d\nBo commanded, putting his hand on the screen to keep Hank from going any\nfurther. \u201cDon’t go inside.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhy?\nDoesn’t look like anyone’s here…or been here in a while.\u201d Hank pointed at the\ncob webs forming in the corner of the wooden door, the sticky strands of\ncottony fibers clinging to peeling paint. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bo\nhanded Hank the paper from his hand. Hank read it allowed. \u201cJulie, went to the\nstore to get some cough syrup, dad’s sick. Make yourself comfy, food in the\nfridge. Be home soon. Mom.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThe\nfather was sick.\u201d Bo pulled the door from his brother’s hands and shut it.\n\u201cDon’t go in there.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The\nrealization spread on Hank’s face and he moved to peer in a window again. \u201cI\ndon’t see no one inside….We didn’t get sick when Ma got bad. Might be food in\nthere.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWe\naren’t risking it. Let’s get the horses and go.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIf\npeople’s sick inside, why hasn’t this place been burned?\u201d Hank took a step away\nfrom the window, looking out over what had once been someone’s homestead.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cFirebugs\nhaven’t gotten out here yet. If they had they’d have taken the horses for\nfood.\u201d Bo lead the way towards the barn, picking up his pace with out a need to\nappear amiable to non-existent residents. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThink\nthese are going to be good horses? Don’t suppose Jason and them have a lot of\nhorse experience…\u201d Hank jogged to catch up with his brother, falling into\nstep half a stride behind him. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cJason\nhas some.\u201d Bo remembered Jason at a handful of branding days, he had been\ndecent on a horse \u2013 riding something over priced with a fancy pedigree. \u201cBut we\ncan’t keep going with them on foot, they’re no help with the cattle that way,\nand we ain’t gonna stay ahead of the Firebugs at the pace we’re moving.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bo\nfrowned as they approached the barn’s large door, spying a padlock on the\nhandle. His shoulders eased as he realized the lock wasn’t closed, just made to\nlook that way from a distance. It was Southern Idaho,\nvery few people ever bothered to lock their front doors much less an old barn.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHey,\nBo, how you figure the horses are still alive?\u201d Hank took the lock from his\nbrother while Bo heaved open the barn door. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
It\ngave way with a screech, sliding along a track, swaying at the base. Bo paused\nto peer into the darkened barn, reaching automatically for a light switch at\nhis side. There was one, but it failed to illuminate anything, the power had\ndied out weeks ago. \u201cProbably have a spring, or irrigation ditch in their\npasture, and it’s plenty big to have enough grass to keep the horses going for\na while.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bo\nstarted opening doors along one wall of the barn, Hank sifted through dirty\nstacks of machinery manuals piled next to a saw horse mounted with a table saw.\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cFound\nthe tack room!\u201d Bo stopped himself from reaching for a light switch, instead\ngiving his eyes a few seconds to adjust to the darkened room. The barn had light\nseeping through cracks in the wood, and an old hay loft window that allowed a\nbreeze to cycle through. The open door helped the dusty old building feel\nbreezy, but the tack room had no windows, and no cracks in the drywall tacked\nup around it. It was cramped, stuff with too much equipment, much of which\nseemed to be duplicates, or even triplicates. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201c3\nsaddles.\u201d Bo breathed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cFour\nhorses.\u201d Hank answered from behind him, his lean frame looming in the doorway.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cLooks\nlike the girls are going to have to double up.\u201d Bo grabbed a headstall from the\nwall, one that looked to have been used frequently over time, though dust had\nsettled across the metal bit recently. \u201cGrab some halters, let’s go catch these\nanimals.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bo\nran his hand over the smooth, broad face of the mare. She was older, but looked\nto be in decent condition, despite the lack of muscle tone from sitting in the\npasture unattentded for who knows how long. She had the quiet temperment of a\nhorse that had seen things, and was long past worrying about any of it. She was\na good horse for a beginner. He glanced over his shoulder at Tyler,\nhis lanky frame stooped as he eyed the horse with suspicion. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cEver\nridden before?\u201d Bo asked, sliding his hands down the mare’s neck to where the\nsaddle had been cinched around her belly and across her shoulders. He gave the\nsaddle a good shake to check for stability before hooking a stirrup over the\nhorn and tightening the girth. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDo\npony rides at the fair count?\u201d Tyler\napproached the mare, and held his hand out to her. She moved her muzzle to\nsniff his fingers, and he flinched when overgrown whiskers tickled his skin.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bo\nwatched the exchange and shook his head. \u201cNo, they don’t. Come’re I’ll give you\na leg up.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Tyler moved to the side\nwhere Bo was standing, nervously fidgeting his hands together. He obeyed when\nBo crouched down to grab his leg, and managed to get heaved into the saddle\nwith relatively little discomfort. Tyler\nwas surprised at Bo’s strength, and the ease at which he hefted the taller man\nonto the back of the horse. He knew Bo had grown up on a cattle ranch, and he\nsupposed there was some truth to the stereotype of the rugged, buff cowboy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bo\nhanded Tyler the reigns, and immediately Tyler felt all the blood\ndrain from his face. \u201cRelax. The horses will stick together mostly out of\ninstinct, you won’t have to do much. Just anything happens hold on real tight,\ngo it?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThat’s\nthe sum total of you riding instruction? ‘Hold on’?\u201d Tyler had no real experience with horses, but\nhe felt like there had to be more to it then to simply hold on.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bo\ngrinned up at him, his broad mouth splitting his face and revealing deep\ndimples on either side. \u201cBought all I got when I started, you’ll be alright.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhen\ndid you start?\u201d The mare shifted under Tyler\nand he tensed, but she settled again a moment later. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bo\nturned and headed back to where his big gelding was standing patiently, head\ndrooping as he took a nap. He glanced over his shoulder \u201cOh I was about 4.\nYou’ll be fine.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Tyler felt there was a\nreasonable concern that learning to ride at four when bones were pliable and\nbodies light was a different experience than driving a herd of cattle across\nthe desert on a horse who didn’t have a name while trying to stay one step\nahead of Firebugs. As Bo mounted and turned his gelding towards the horizon,\nthe mare picked up a lazy walk to follow. Tyler\ngripped the reigns and saddle horn with both hands. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHow\nfar you reckon we got till the Pallisades, Bo?\u201d Hank was full of questions,\nthough he might have always been and Bo had failed to notice. There were a lot\nof things Bo might have failed to notice.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cFew\nmore days yet.\u201d Bo remarked, his eyes to the north west of them. Billowing up from the\ndistance was smoke in every shade of gray imaginable. It drifted behind it’s self,\nindicative of a slow moving train. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cFirebugs.\u201d\nJason said, stepping up beside Bo, shoving a fist full of pieces of crackers\ninto his mouth. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bo\nglanced at Jason from beneath the brim of his aging hat. \u201cWe should get a fire\ngoin’. Hank.\u201d He motioned for his brother to follow. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
In\na clear spot between sage brush he kicked some sticks aside. Hank did his part\nand collected the flammable debris and carefully stacked it in a tee pee\nformation in the center of the cleared area. Tyler approached their clearing with a stiff\ngait; he had to have been sore from the riding but had kept his mouth shut\nabout it for the last few days. He eased himself onto a rock that was a few\ninches taller than the ground, groaning audibly. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Hank\nleft his stack of sticks in favor of widening his search for more. And Bo knelt\nbefore the carefully balanced twig tee pee and stuffed the hollow center with\nsagebrush and ripped up dried out grass weeds. Bo peaked from under the broad\nbrimmed hat, before turning his attention to the lighter he held ignited\nagainst the kindling. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Tyler sneezed, his hand\nclamping over his mouth to stifle it too late. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYa\nalright?\u201d Bo stocked the fire with a slightly larger stick to allow air to flow\nto the slowly spreading embers. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAllergies.\u201d\nTyler answered,\nsniffling back drainage from his nose. \u201cThe irony of our present situation is\nthat I am allergic to sage brush.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAnd\nwe’re certainly surrounded.\u201d Bo smirked as he stood, stepping back from the\nfire to avoid any floating embers. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThose\nFirebugs going to catch us?\u201d Tyler\ncoughed, and sniffed again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThey’re\nat least a day behind us. They won’t be able to get this close to the canyon in\ntheir vehicles, we can stay ahead of them cross country with the horses.\u201d It\nhad been the first real decision Bo had made when they left their homestead,\nhalf a day ahead of the Firebugs who were burning the ranches all through the\nvalley; to stick to horses. Horses; the original all terrain vehicle. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Tyler sneezed again, this\ntime with less effort to cover it. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNot\nmuch of a outdoorsman are you?\u201d Bo settled onto the ground, his lean legs\nstretching out towards the fire. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cBefore\nmy idea of an outdoor adventure was a 5k in the park.\u201d Tyler took a deep breath, coughing to clear\nhis throat as he exhaled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bo\nlet lose a snort that was mostly made up of a laugh. Hank reappeared in the\nclearing with an armful of half dead branches from dried out sage bushes. He\ndropped them near the fire, nudging the strays away from the flames as they\nslowly consumed the first round of fuel. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI’m\nhungry.\u201d Hank announced. \u201cWhen’s supper?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The\nmorning light was the wake up call, the chilly night wearing off as the sun\nrose. Bo nudged Hank with the toe of his boot. \u201cGet up, lazy bones.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Hank\ngrunted a reply, and next to him Sarah rolled uncomfortably under a thread bare\nblanket wrapped around her shoulders. Bo glanced at Jason, who stood over the\ncrouched figure of Faith, staring at the ever approaching column of smoke. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Faith\nglanced at Bo, but lowered her eyes as\nshe gathered what meager possessions they carried, stuffing a down blanket that\nwas shedding feathers into a sack. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThe\nFirebugs are closer.\u201d Jason remarked, taking a sip of boiled water from a metal\ncup with a dent in the side. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThey\ndon’t need to sleep.\u201d Bo knew they had enough in numbers that they could take\nshifts. But he also had seen first hand the sort of frenzy they existed in,\nfueled by fear and unbridled bloodlust. He doubted sleep was something that\nkind of person concerned themselves with. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWe\ncould go faster, push the cows harder.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWe\ndo that the cattle will start dropping, and then we won’t have a damn thing to\noffer to get us through the gates at the Pallisades. We stick to the plan.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSure.\nFor now.\u201d Jason swallowed the last of his water and tossed his cup at Faith.\nShe jumped as it bounced off her shoulder and onto the ground, before she\npicked it up and stuffed it into the sack with the blanket. Jason turned\ntowards where the horses were hitched on a rope between two particularly large\nsagebrush. \u201cLet’s move, Faith. Quit doddling.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bo\nwatched Faith scurry after Jason. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Tyler dismounted quickly,\nstumbling away from his horse during another sneezing fit. He struggled to\nbreathe, bending over and spitting snot into the dirt. Bo was the first to\ndismount following, grabbing the dropped reigns on Tyler’s mare to keep her from wandering. Hank\nfollowed suit, keeping close to his brother. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cTyler,\nman, you okay?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Tyler wheezed, and\ncoughed again. \u201cHay fever is the worst.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYeah.\nHank go grab my canteen. Let’s get him some water.\u201d Bo ordered over Tyler’s stooped frame.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat\nthe hell is the holdup?\u201d Jason demanded as he pushed his horse up to where they\nwere stopped at speed. \u201cLet’s get a move on, those Firebugs are closing in, god\ndamnit.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHe\nneeds a minute.\u201d Bo glowered at Jason.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cFor\nwhat? Is he sick? Is he fucking sick?!\u201d Jason’s horse twisted under him as his\nvoice rose, responding to the tension in his rider’s body.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHe’s\ngot allergies, man. Chill out.\u201d Bo rolled his eyes at Jason’s paranoia.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cLet’s\ngo, I’m fine.\u201d Tyler\nmurmured straightening himself up. He rubbed at his red and watery eyes. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bo\nshook his head. \u201cNo, we can take a minute–\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The\nsound caught Bo off gaurd, the sharp crack of the gunfire ripped through the\nair and made him instinctively jump back. Tyler’s\nblood sprayed across the dirt creating a fan pattern beneath his body. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bo\nwhipped around to face Jason, who was putting a heavy caliber pistol back in a\nholster at his hip. \u201cWhat the fuck?!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Hank\nwas frozen in place next to Bo’s horse, hand on the canteen eyes wide. Sarah\nscreamed, her shrill wail cutting through the air like a knife. Faith gripped\nSarah’s waist, riding double behind her, and stared blankly at Tyler’s lifeless body.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHe\nwas sick!\u201d Jason defended.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHe\nhad allergies!\u201d Bo shouted.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWe\ndon’t know that! Those Firebugs catch up to us with him like that they’ll kill\nus all no questions asked!\u201d Jason stared down at Bo, his face set and eyes\nhard. \u201cI did us a favor.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The\ntwo men stared at one another, Jason’s face set hard and unyielding, no sign of\nguilt in his eyes. Bo’s face was sharp, his eyes burning as he stared\nunblinking at Jason still straddling his horse and taking full advantage of the\nheight. Bo’s fists were tight, knuckles whitening in response to the tension\nthat rigged his entire body. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Hank\nbroke the ensuing silence as the two men eyed one another. \u201cBo…\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bo\njerked his eyes to his brother. Hank’s face was devoid of any color. \u201cGet on\nyour horse, Hank.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cBo…We\ncan’t just leave him there…\u201d Hank shook his head.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\nsaid get on your fucking horse, Hank.\u201d Bo almost never swore, he stalked to his\nown mount, gathering up the reigns he swung a leg up onto the animal. He kept\nthe reigns to Tyler’s\nriderless horse and ponied it to where Sarah and Faith were double mounted.\nSarah’s face was streaked with tears. Bo held out the reigns to Faith. \u201cGet\nmounted up. Let’s go.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\ndid us a favor, Bo. All of us.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bo\nurged his horse forward, riding past Jason with out so much as a glance. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
The\ndays had long started to drone on, bleeding into one another. Even Hank had\nstopped trying to keep track of where they were, or how much further they had\nbefore they reached the gates of the Palisades.\nThe promise of the oasis of a safe zone, a region walled off by remote access\nand ice cold impassable rivers. A single point of entry left, gated high. It was a rumor, fueled by a\nhandful of truths. It was the only hope they had. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWe\nneed to get down to the river.\u201d Bo frowned as he stared at the edge of the canyon.\nThe ground was rough, and rose above the river as jagged walls of rock. Bo\nleaned over the saddle, pitching himself as far forward on his horse as he\ncould to try and glimpse where the path lead over the ledge. He couldn’t quite\nsee well enough to determine if the path was suitable to drive the cattle down,\nor would pose significant risk to the herd and their only bargaining chip.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bo\ndismounted, swinging easily off the back of Ol’ Trooper and dropping the\nreigns. The reliable horse settled his weight but didn’t move, the dropped\nreign a significant enough tool to keep him in place. Hank mimicked his older\nbrother, though his dismount was more of a flying leap off his horse and onto\nthe ground. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHank,\njust stay with the horses.\u201d Bo ordered, motioning his brother back. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Ignoring\nhim, Hank hurried to catch up to Bo, rock chips crunching under his feet. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bo\npassed by a rock formation, side stepping a piece that jutted into his pathway\neasily. He heard the tell-tale sound of the rattle half a stride later. He\nfroze instantly, the clattering sound of a rattlesnake’s tail paralyzing him to\nhis core. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
He\nrealized a moment later that Hank was behind him. It was always the second guy\nwho got bit, never the first. \u201cHank! Hold still!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It\nwas too late. Hank yelped, leaping backwards. Bo turned in time to see the\nsnake coil back under the shade of the rock formation. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bo\ngrowled. He stared at the rocks before deciding his path. He climbed up and\nover them, staying out of reach of the snake. The reptile’s tail was rattling\nagain, sending a bone chilling warning into the air. Sarah had dismounted and\nreached Hank about the same time Bo did. Her small frame reaching to grab him\nand help him settle onto the dirt. She knelt beside him as Bo crashed to his\nknees. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Hank\nstared down at his wounded leg, eyes wide with panic. Bo was quick in shoving\nHank’s pants out of the way, folding the material to catch above the calf. He\nslid his belt from his waist in a single\nsmooth motion, and wrapped it tightly just below Hank’s knee. He used a small\nstick ropped from a molting sagebrush to twist the leather tightly. He grabbed\nHank’s hand pressing it over where the stick and belt tourniquet was cutting\noff blood flow to the lower leg.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cKeep\nhold of that.\u201d He ordered. \u201cSarah, hold him down.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Sarah’s\nface fell, her eyes and jaw going wide at the prospect. Hank was considerably\nlarger than her, having several inches of height and several dozen pounds of\nweight above her. She swallowed and pressed into Hank’s upper body as best she\ncould.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bo\npulled his pocket knife from where it clipped to the interior of a pants\npocket. He engaged the blade, letting it free of it’s confines. He didn’t pause\nto breathe, or consider his options, he drug the blade right over the two prick\nmarks from the snake’s fangs. Hank screamed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The\nwound opened readily, blood pouring out. Bo put his mouth to the injury and\ngrimaced, before sucking blood from the opening. He spat the blood back onto\nthe ground and repeated the process twice more. Hank had quieted, his breathing\nrapid and shallow.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bo\nused the back of his hand to wipe his mouth, spitting a few more times to try\nand erase the taste of blood from his mouth. \u201cCalm down.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIs\nhe going to be okay?\u201d Sarah asked, her soft mouse like voice quivering. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDon’t\nknow.\u201d Bo sighed. \u201cI told you to stay back.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Hank’s\nface contorted as he battled back the pain that spread up his leg. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jason\ngalloped up, yanking his horse to a halt just shy of running into the three\nhorses standing by. Faith wasn’t far behind, though she reigned her horse in\nseveral feet back. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat\nthe hell happened?\u201d Jason demanded, tightening his reigns to keep his horse\nstill. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cRattlesnake.\u201d\nBo answered, pushing himself to his feet. He took his hand off and used the\nbrim to help brush dirt from his knees, though truthfully he couldn’t be sure\nwhy he bothered. His clothes hadn’t seen the inside of a washing machine in\nweeks. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWell.\u201d\nJason leaned forward on his horse. \u201cThat’s a damn shame. That path usable?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bo\nglared at Jason, before turning his attention to Hank. \u201cCan you ride?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Hank\nwas breathing heavily, sweat dripped from the brow band of his hat down the\nsides of his face. He looked up at his brother, and nodded. \u201cProbably easier\nthan walkin’.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
The\npain radiated up his leg, throbbing with each pulse of his heart, but Hank\nmoved to get to his feet. He braced his uninjured leg under him and held his\nhand out, with out a word Bo hauled him up. Years of backbreaking ranch work\nhad left the Carmine brothers strong. Even on a diet that consisted largely of\nwhat they found and the occasional hunk of overcooked beef, they maintained a\ndecent level of muscle mass. On his feet, Hank reached out to stabilize\nhimself, balancing mostly on one leg. His hand clamped onto the slim shoulder\nof Sarah, who wrapped her arms around Hank to help him stay steady. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
They\nmanaged to get Hank mounted, with considerable effort. His face was ashen as he held reigns in one\nhand and rubbed at his bad leg with the other. Bo watched him for a moment,\nbefore patting his horse on the neck and turning away. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
He\nmoved back to his own mount and pulled the long rifle from where he’d stashed\nit in a leather scabbard. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cBo!\nWhat the hell are you doing?\u201d Jason demanded, still mounted on the unruly\nhorse. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bo\ndidn’t bother with an answer, stalking towards the rock formation. As he closed\nin the snake began it’s tell tale warning rattle. He swung the rifle around and\ncrashed the butt of it down onto the head of the rattlesnake, it was done so\nquickly the animal never had a chance to offer a strike. With it’s skull caved\nit it was silent, limp in the dust. Bo stooped over and grabbed it right behind\nthe neck joint. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
He\nheaded back to his horse, shoving the rifle back in it’s place and the snake\nwas stuffed into a saddle bag with out any ceremony. He ignored the way the\nothers stared at him, climbing onto Ol’ Trooper and nudging the horse forward\nonce he was barely in the saddle. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cKeep\nmoving.\u201d He snarled at Jason as he passed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Hank\nfell with a heavy thud. He rolled himself over, coughing, struggling for air.\nBo was off his mount before the horse had come to a complete stop. He rushed to\nHank’s side, landing on the ground to prop his brother on his lap. He looked up\nas Sarah rushed in beside him. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThe\nsnake bite…\u201d Sarah said, she peeled away some of the make shift bandages\naround the wound on Hank’s leg. The skin came with it, revealing red, angry,\nmoist flesh below. \u201cHe needs a doctor, Bo…\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWe’re\ngoing to have to do.\u201d Bo wasn’t even sure where he would find a doctor. Hospitals had been the first zones\nquarantined. When they had closed all the hospitals, the Firebugs had taken\nmatters into their own hands burning every place with the sickness. Burning\npeople with the sickness, most of them dead before the fire started. Most of\nthem. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWe\nneed to keep moving!\u201d Jason hissed, dropping down beside them from the back of\nhis horse. \u201cThe Firebugs aren’t even half a day behind us, we keep wasting time\nthey are going to catch up. And that won’t be good for any one.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThe\nsnake bite is making him sick. He needs to slow down.\u201d Sarah pleaded. She\npaused trying to reapply the bandages to Hank’s leg, inside out, to look at up\nJason. \u201cPlease, he just needs to rest.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWe\ndon’t have time! You can see the damn smoke!\u201d Jason pointed at the horizon. The\ntell tale column of black smoke churned in the distance as an ominous banner of\nthe Firebug’s procession. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Sarah\nsecured a sock over the haphazard bandages on Hank’s leg and took his head to\ncradle in her lap. He was sweating, his body shivering as an infection driven\nfever ravaged him. His lower leg was swollen, what skin remained was blackening\nin an ever widening pattern around the original bite. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWe\ncan’t afford this, Bo!\u201d Jason shouted. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bo\ngot to his feet, his face hard. \u201cHe needs rest.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI’m\nnot going to sit around here and wait for them to catch up, Bo! They catch up\nto us they will kill us with him like that! They won’t even ask about it!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThen\ngo.\u201d Bo snarled. \u201cGet on your damn horse and go.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou\ncan stay here.\u201d Jason countered. \u201cWait for your brother to die or feel better.\nSee how you fair against the Firebugs when they catch up to you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bo’s\nface was cast of iron, his eyes staring straight at Jason. Jason was taller by\na few inches, but as Bo’s shoulders squared and his gaze was leveled, Jason\nappeared to shrink back. It was only a moment before he rebounded, and puffed\nout his chest. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jason\ntook half a step towards Bo, leaning forward to press his weight into the other\nman’s personal space. Bo didn’t back down, his rigid face staring back even as\nhe could feel Jason’s breath on him. He held his ground for several long\nmoments before he took a step back. Jason smirked, his body straightening more\nupright as Bo gave ground.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bo\nturned and headed towards his horse. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cGlad\nyou see reason, Bo.\u201d Jason said as he grabbed the bridle of his perpetually\nagitated steed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bo\npaused, looking over the seat of his saddle at smoky calling of the Firebug\nprocession. He shook his head.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cJason.\nI don’t see a god damned thing.\u201d In a single motion Bo drew his rifle. It was a\nsmooth glide pulling the old long barrel weapon from the scabbard. He spun\naround, bracing the back end of the gun against his shoulder. He didn’t take a\ngreat deal of time to line up his shot. \nHe simply pointed the barrel and pulled the trigger. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jason\ndropped, hard and solid to the ground. His horse reared back, pulling away from\nthe man’s hands and bolted into the desert. Jason flopped on the dirt like a\nfish out of water, scrambling to catch his breath as a hole in his chest oozed\ndarkened blood. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bo\napproached him, cocking the gun a second time he stared down at Jason\nstruggling. Jason’s wide panicked eyes stared up at him, blood seeping from the\ncorner of his mouth. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThat\nwas for Tyler.\nThis is for my brother.\u201d Bo pulled the trigger a second time, sending a bullet\nthrough the center of Jason’s mass. The body spasmed one last time and went\nstill, eyes open and face slack. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bo\nlooked up at Faith, who sat still on her horse with tears in her eyes. \u201cDon’t waste\ntears on him, he was a sonovabitch his whole life. And he’s done worse to you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Faith\nswallowed, running the back of her hand under her eyes. \u201cI’m not sad.\u201d She\ncroaked out of a raspy throat. \u201cBelieve me. I’m not sad.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bo\nnodded his understanding. He put his rifle away before looking at Sarah. \u201cHelp\nme get Hank on his horse. We need to get going.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As\nBo used the bulk of his weight to hoist Hank back into his saddle, Hank managed\nto keep his pained sounds to a minimum. When he was seated in the saddle Bo\nused a few strands of twine from his saddle bags to tie Hank’s thigh against\nthe saddle. It was to keep him at least in the saddle if he passed out again. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cBo…\nReckon we’ll make it to the Palisades?\u201d He\nasked, blurry eyes staring down at his brother as he tightened the lashings.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\nreckon we will.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Pine was born in raised in Idaho. He works as a dog trainer and horse trainer while avoiding adulthood as much as possible. His incurable peter pan complex means he spends a lot of his time exploring the vast wilderness areas his home state has to offer. <\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":229,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"nf_dc_page":"","om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-200","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/06\/tobias-keller-104263-unsplash.jpg?fit=4915%2C3071&ssl=1","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/200","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=200"}],"version-history":[{"count":6,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/200\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":230,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/200\/revisions\/230"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/229"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=200"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=200"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=200"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}