Rory

Rory awoke to find Doc pacing and muttering under his breath. “Everything okay?” She stretched and rubbed the night’s sleep from her eyes.

“Well, let’s see,” he said, stopping to face her. “Our guide is AWOL.”

“But he wouldn’t leave us in the middle of nowhere to fend for ourselves.” She searched the area for Byron, the sting of betrayal prickling her eyes. “Why would he leave? We’re on the edge of enemy territory and… Stupid men.”

“Not all of us are deserters,” Doc said and sat down heavily. “So, what’s the plan now?”

“I’ve got an idea. If we only rescue the Daughters, Alma still has a problem with Blueskin raiding parties. And with a giant hole in the wall, how’s that gonna go? So, why don’t we take a detour? There might be a way we can get the right Blueskin to replace Vic as Big Chair. That way Alma doesn’t have to be so reliant on the vampires for protection.” Rory knew it was a dangerous move, but it was worth a try. “Where’s everyone else?”

“Nadine asked Sven to help her collect berries for breakfast. However, they are copulating in the bushes. I will not be eating any berries this morning out of fear they may be unhygienic.” Holga adjusted her thick glasses. “I can’t help but notice an unsettling trend developing. First Billie vanished, and now Byron. Are we sure Byron left of his own volition? I would prefer to give him the benefit of the doubt in this matter, as I owe him my life.”

Rory breathed a heavy sigh. “If he didn’t already have a track record for running off on his own, I’d be right there with you. Sven and Nadine need to finish up so we can get moving.” For a moment, Rory regretted not having Billie around to send after Sven and Nadine. However, she lacked someone so tactless. So they waited in silence until the pair arrived back at camp, acting as if nothing had happened.

“What?” Nadine asked after realizing the group was staring at them.

“Byron never came back to camp. Looks like we’re fending for ourselves from here out.” Rory realized she added more of an edge to her words than intended. “I have a plan, but I’ll be honest, it’s dangerous.”

They gathered around the burned out firepit and agreed; it was reckless, but worth the risk.

* * *

Rory held Maggie’s crutch as they entered the small Blueskin camp. She hadn’t been there during the day but easily found where she’d been held captive. Her eyes refused to leave the nearby spot of earth where the vile Blueskin had met his end and shivered. The way his eyes shifted, first aware of his imminent death and finally faded into nothingness. It was the first time she’d ever watched someone die, and it burned into her memory.

Maggie’s husband approached them and pulled a knife. “Not blue. Go,” he said.

She held up the crutch. “Maggie, she’s my friend. Is she okay? I’ve brought healers if she or the baby needs them.”

Recognition formed over the man’s face and he flailed his arms at the gawkers nearby, forcing them to scatter. Turning to Rory and her friends, he said, “Come, tent.”

“Great. We’re relyin’ on Tarzan of bloody Bluestoke,” Sven said.

Holga held up a finger. “Actually, Tarzan was the lord of Greystoke in the novels by Edgar Rice Burroughs. But I now realize you were making a joke.”

Maggie rose as they came in the tent, her face glowing with late pregnancy. She hugged Rory warmly, then drew away from her and slapped her. Doc balled his fists to charge, but Maggie’s husband held his blade against the enormous man’s side.

“Gus, no.” Maggie shook her head at her husband. “No fight. We talk.”

“You just hit me again,” Rory said and rubbed her cheek.

“Yes. You brought strangers. Please understand, a good portion of the men and women in the camp are trustworthy.” She caressed her swollen belly. “Most, but there’s still followers of the Big Chair among us. Why are you here?”

“Two reasons. You remember Doc, right? Figure you might want someone to check on the baby.”

Unable to stand at his full height from the low tent ceilings, he nodded awkwardly at Maggie.

She held out a hand to him. “It’s wonderful to see you again. Now I finally get the chance to properly thank you. Not sure if you remember, but you healed my arm after I broke it outside Alma.”

“That’s right, I remember you now.” Doc’s face warmed with friendly recognition. “You had a nasty compound fracture. If I recall, the bone was even protruding through the flesh.”

Maggie’s face went green.

Doc, seeming to realize his error, returned to his professional bedside manner and bent down beside Maggie. “Sorry about that. May I?”

She nodded and turned her attention back to Rory. “What’s the second reason you’re here?”

“We wanted to warn you that things will change soon.” She described the attack on Alma and the one on their own home at the farmhouse, linking both to Big Chair—also known as the vampire, Vic. “I promise you; he’ll be dethroned. Make sure your people are ready for whatever comes next.”

Gus and Maggie shared a look of unspoken communication between man and wife until finally she nodded and said, “The Highlanders aren’t what you’d call a tightknit community, but my husband has been uniting them. When you leave, he’ll begin the preparations. Thanks to you, we’ll have a fighting chance to take the seat and install Gus as the Big Chair. The Highlanders will be sure to remember this act of kindness.”

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Doc looked from Gus’ knife to Maggie. “The baby dropped. You shouldn’t be alone right now.”

“I’ll be fine. The baby will come when it decides it wants to meet the world. Right now, you have more important things to worry about.”

“If she or anyone else needs my help, please find me. I’ll be happy to come back. I mean it,” Doc told Gus as they left.

Rory hugged her friend and held out the crutch. “I wanted to give this back to you, thank you for your help. You’re welcome in my home whenever.” She kissed her cheek softly and left.

As they departed the camp, Rory felt certain they’d made the right choice by going there. While there was no way to be certain who the Big Chair would be, the Highlanders had the advantage of preparation.

“You sure you remember how to get there, Holga?” Doc asked.

“Really?” she replied with a stern look.

“Just making sure.”

“C’mon. Stop squabbling like children. Now, can we move?” Sven was sitting in the cart, ready to go.

“I don’t know their movement patterns as well as Byron did, but I can get us there at least. We must be hypervigilant,” Holga said.

“Guess that’s the best we have to work with.” Doc jumped on the cart after everyone else settled in and they departed.

* * *

The trek to the outskirts of the Big Chair’s hill was uneventful. Disturbingly so. Rory’s skin crawled with the uncomfortable sensation of being watched.

Doc said, “There’re bodies in the grass. It’s like something’s clearing a path for us.”

She felt better knowing she wasn’t the only one on high alert. Her stomach dropped. Are we headed into a trap?

Betts blew air sharply from his nostrils, pawed at the ground, and his ears fell flat.

“We gotta move, Betts,” Sven said and snapped the reins. “Aw, c’mon. Move your arse, you giant bastard.”

A blur emerged in front of them. Betts reared and emitted a guttural scream. The cart flew up on its back wheels, ejecting Rory and Holga. Rory jumped to her feet, adrenaline still deciding between fight or flight. She held out a hand to Holga to help her up. “Are you okay?”

Holga nodded and brushed dirt off her pants. “I’m unharmed.”

“Did the fall hurt you, my mistress?” Trevor came to a stop in front of Rory and bowed. He looked at her as though hopeful he’d find her injured.

“I’m fine, but you scared the shit out of Betts. What were you doing out here?”

“Why, keeping you safe, of course. I’ve been killing all the nasty blue things that would dare to harm you.” Trevor twitched and gritted his teeth. “It’s almost orgasmic to pretend it’s your neck I’m snapping.”

“You’re disgusting,” Rory said and turned away from him.

“Can you clear the way?” Doc said. “With less killing this time?”

“I absolutely could, but there’s no fun in that.”

“You’ll get us there and not kill a single person the rest of the way.” Rory decided he needed further clarification. “And Blueskins are people.”

“If that’s what the mistress desires.” Trevor grumbled and took off ahead of them.

They spent the rest of the brief trip in silence. They saw sticks marking the graves of their fallen. Each etched with the same type of symbols as Maggie’s crutch. Lean-to shacks and hovels made from the ruins of centuries-old buildings dotted the landscape.

Trevor flagged the cart to stop, and they followed him. “This is as far as we can go. See that?” He pointed at the chair on top of the grassy knoll they stood in front of. “I’m sure they’ll let me enter if the mistress will allow me to act on her behalf.”

“And why aren’t we all going in with you?” Doc asked and crossed his arms.

“You could go in with me, but it’s safe to assume they’re all inside. So, walk right into a viper’s nest and see how that works out for you.” Trevor shook his head and whimpered. “If they harmed the mistress, I would slaughter them all or die trying.”

“Fine,” Rory said impatiently. “Just give us a signal when it’s safe to come in.”

With a flash of movement, Trevor reached out and held her against him just long enough to inhale deeply into her hair. A crooning sigh left his throat before he pushed her into the tall grass and banged loudly on the door.

* * *

It had been too long since they heard any signs of life within the bunker. The next time Rory saw Byron, he wouldn’t hear the end of it. She’d be sure to lay it on extra thick how much suffering he put her through.

If I see him again, she thought and balled her fists so tight to avoid crying; she drew blood with her fingernails.

“What do you think is happening?” Doc asked, his face drawn and haggard.

Nadine shook her head, and her lips formed a tight, pale line. “There’s too much concrete. The plants can’t see. The roots sensed vibrations earlier, but…” She broke off and turned away from Rory.

Impatient and drunk from too many nervous pulls from his flask, Sven tottered to his feet and began kicking the door. “Let us in, you fuckin’ leeches. You fuckin’ bell-end pieces of shite.”

Nadine wrapped her arms around him and pulled him down to sit next to her. “That’s not going to-”

Movement from the door interrupted her. It shuddered and screeched until it finally opened. Trevor, bloody and battered, stumbled through before falling to his knees in front of Rory. “The other vampires have gone through the catacombs. I’ve sent them away so the…” His face contorted as if he tasted something particularly foul. He forced himself to continue and said, “The friends of the mistress can go in. I will protect Rory out here.”

“Like hell,” Rory said. She made her way to the door but stopped. A flash of dread in Trevor’s eyes gave her pause.

“Please, no.” The vampire stood and turned to Doc. “Largest of the cows, please, tell her to stay. It wouldn’t be good for her to see. Tell her to stay.”

“Sven, stay out here with Rory,” Doc said, never taking his eyes off Trevor. “You know where the Daughters are being kept?”

“Yes.”

“And you know where Byron is?”

“Yes.”

“I’m going in,” Rory said, but Doc held her back.

“I’m sorry, but no, you’re not. If the creature is right, there might be something you don’t want to see. Why don’t you two get the cart ready to go?”

“Largest of the cows is right.” Trevor nodded, his face a swirling mask of humiliation and humor. He motioned for the witches to follow and disappeared into the underground structure.

Holga made for the door and stopped. She walked the opposite direction before turning towards it again. She looked at Rory and said, “I’m afraid to go in there. Somewhere, my girlfriend is rotting and bloated and I don’t want to see that. It’ll be here”—she pointed at her temple—“forever.”

“All right, help me with the cart. We need to move things around so we have room for…” Not knowing how to continue her thought aloud, she got to work. Silently, the two of them adjusted barrels and stacked crates.

There was a shuffle of feet, and Nadine emerged with the missing Daughters in tow. Their faces all set in stone as they carried bodies draped in stained sheets.

“Is she… Did you find…” Holga said and gave her glasses a quick nudge.

“Yes. She’s here.” Her hands otherwise occupied with the dead; Nadine wiped her cheek with a shoulder.

“Did you find Byron?” Rory asked, not seeing him walking with the rest. “Where’s Byron?”

“Doc is with him. He’ll be out shortly,” Nadine said, not meeting Rory’s eyes.

“I’m going in.” she said, running to the door.

“Don’t,” Nadine said in a sharp tone that iced Rory to her core.

The world spun harder than it ever had before, and her knees buckled. “What happened in there?”

“I’m not sure, to be honest, and it’s best that you avoid finding out for yourself.”

Blind and led by Trevor, Doc emerged holding a limp form.

Byron.

The breath caught in Rory’s throat and she heard crying. That’s odd. It sounds like me. Everything around her went black, and she collapsed.